Painting the Roses Red
by The Hero's Shadow
Summary: Ghirahim meets Link and his friend Vaati, who is an ex-gang member, and tries to hide his personal and "family" problems from them. Will probably feature GhirahimxLink yaoi in later chapters.
1. His Name

"Say, who's that new kid?"

Link's attention was brought to the person across the room that Vaati's finger was not-so-discreetly pointing at. Class was a few minutes from ending, and everyone had migrated towards their friends to socialize before the bell rang. However, the teenager that Vaati had singled out was sitting by himself, talking to no one and browsing through a _History of Hyrule _textbook.

"I think his name is Ghirahim," Link replied with a shrug, willing the bell to ring sooner. Lunch was next, and he had missed breakfast that morning. "I heard it during roll call."

"He looks different, like he's not from around here," Vaati continued his assessment of the new kid named Ghirahim. "White hair, dark eyes, purple rings under them, strange skin tone...his clothes are foreign, too."

"You look pretty strange compared to some of us too, Vaati," Link laughed. "Lavender hair, red eyes, pretty short?"

Vaati narrowed his eyes with a slight blush. "I was just saying..."

"Well, wanna ask him to sit with us at lunch?"

Vaati nodded. "I doubt he's got anyone to sit with, and everyone else will probably ignore him."

With that, the bell chimed, and the cluster of students escaped into the hall. Link and Vaati were delighted that Ghirahim had stayed back while the rest of the class scrambled for the doorway like uncivilized beasts. Link, a bit aloof to the situation and knowing it would mean more to his friend, let Vaati approach Ghirahim. Link watched from a few feet away. He wasn't the kind of person to become very involved with things or other people right off the bat.

"Ghirahim?" Vaati inquired.

Ghirahim's eyes narrowed slightly, but he replied with a polite, but strained, "Yeah?"

"I'm Vaati, and that's Link," he stated bluntly, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the blonde haired Hylian. "We wanted to know if you'd come with us to lunch?"

There was a slight moment of pause, where Vaati was sure Ghirahim would reject the offer, but he was slightly surprised, and a bit elated, when the white haired boy accepted.

The three exited the deserted classroom, heading down the hall and for the cafeteria. They were met with a few blockades of Gerudo girls around their lockers re-applying their makeup, and a few Zoras heading to the swim team's room. The courtyard, which had to be crossed to reach the cafeteria, was over-populated and extremely noisy. Vaati and Link were sensitive to its loudness, and they could tell Ghirahim was as well. He remained silent, so Vaati decided to break its curse.

"So what school did you come from?"

"Huh?"

"Where did you go to school before here at Hyrule Town Square?"

"Oh, er, I homeschooled," Ghirahim patched up his blunder over the obvious question. He smoothed his white hair down over the side of his face, suddenly anxious over his bad communication skills.

"I came from a Minish school a couple towns over," Vaati said, trying to keep conversation going. "I'm actually a Minish, but my old teacher, my master, helped me achieve a Hylian body. Do you practice any magic?"

A surge of discomfort pierced Ghirahim. "I suppose you could say I do. It's said to be a form of elite magic. I don't think it's practiced at schools such as these."

Link's attention, which had been focused on obtaining food (specifically hoping that they would be serving Octorok salad) was diverted at this. He wasn't an over-achieving student who excelled in every subject he took (in fact if it weren't for Vaati, he wouldn't have a chance at passing history) but asides from Combat & Weaponry, as he was the one who practically taught everyone how to use a bow and arrow while the teacher, Mr. Gaebora slept through each class, he was also top of his class in Magical Studies & Artifacts. It was such a fascinating subject to him that he spent his free time researching it through different cultures in his free time.

"What does it involve?" Link asked suddenly, cutting Vaati off before he could say more.

He could almost see Ghirahim cringe, and wonder what kind of magic Ghirahim knew that he would visibly try to hide; most of the more ancient, evil magics had been concealed by the Goddesses, and made illegal by most authorities across Hyrule. His reluctance made Link suspicious, but he decided to chalk it up to Ghirahim's obvious social anxiety.

"Er, teleporting, weaponry, that sort of thing," the white haired teen explained. "They're just uncommon forms of a probably similar branch of magic."

Link nodded, letting any clinging suspicions fade. "I don't know much magic myself as any type of sorcerer, but I do have the ability to use and control magical artifacts."

"I'm a sorcerer," Vaati chipped in. "But in my freshman year I went with the wrong crowd and used my magic for some bad things. I ended up getting probation for a year."

Link nudged Vaati with his elbow, winking at him. "Now everyone thinks you're such a badass."

"Shut up, Link..." Vaati hissed, his cheeks tinting red. "It was before I knew you." If he were a cat, his ears would have been laying flat against his head.

It was by then that they had waded through the crowds and made it to the lunch line. Ghirahim glanced around uncomfortably.

"Mind if I save us a table?" he asked.

"You want us to bring you something to eat?" Vaati offered.

"I don't eat at school. I, um, well you see, I just don't."

"S'cool," Vaati dismissed him. "We'll be there in a few."

Relieved, Ghirahim broke from the line of students and glanced around for a table, slipping into an empty one and pulling out a book to read._ A Collection of Legends._ _Chapter One, Majora's Mask..._

He felt the weight of something dropping onto the table, and look up expecting to see Vaati or Link, but was forlorn to see someone else; this person had a crop of fiery hair that contrasted deeply with his olive-green skin that signaled to Ghirahim that he was, in fact, a Gerudo. He was extremely tall and had well toned muscles for someone his height. He had slammed down a textbook on the table, startling Ghirahim from his concentration.

"Hi there, new kid," the red haired boy smiled in an unfriendly sort of way. "Whatcha doin' hanging around those two?"

"Link and Vaati?" Ghirahim asked, confused. "What's wrong with them?"

"Oh nothing, besides that one of them is a thug and the other is gay."

"I don't see how gay is an insult - "

"No, I mean gay as in kissing other guys, sleeping with other guys, sucking their you-know-whats."

Ghirahim felt his face go red for a split second, slightly out of embarassment but more heavily out of anger. "So what? He's a nice guy. So is Vaati."

"You just met them, how do you know?" the Gerudo sneered.

"Because they aren't trying to drag anyone's reputation through the mud," Ghirahim snapped. "I'd suggest you leave, right about now would be nice."

The Gerudo's nose wrinkled in a snarl. "Hanging around the likes of them will only lead you into more trouble, Sword Spirit."

Ghirahim froze, as his heart skipped a beat and his stomach quit digesting. His mouth went dry.

"What makes you think that?" he asked calmly.

"I can just tell," the Gerudo spat. "Maybe nobody else can sense your magical aura, most of the people in this school are magically disabled or inept at their abilities, but I come from a long and uninterrupted bloodline. I can tell what someone is by just looking at them. You're a Sword Spirit, and don't seem too keen on having anyone else know."

"Why would I care if someone knew? I'm rather proud of my exquisite deviance."

"But you're a lie. That isn't how you truly look, this isn't your true nature. You're lying to Link and Vaati. Do you think they'd accept you if they knew?"

"I wouldn't see a reason not to," Ghirahim retorted, but inside he felt himself falter and a few chips of confidence break away and fall into an abyssal hole. He had come here to attempt a typical school experience, among other reasons, and halfway through the first day he was already being threatened of exposure.

"I know what kind of race you are. It'd be a shame for Link and Vaati to see you as you truly are."

"I've nothing to hide from them," Ghirahim asserted once more.

The red haired Gerudo shrugged. "Well, I suppose we'll see about that." He stood, grinning coldly, and lef the table, throwing a smirk over his shoulder at the Sword Spirit.

Ghirahim shook his head, attempting to restore his composure. He could see Link and Vaati heading towards the table with their trays now, and was hoping with a burning intensity that they had not witnessed or heard any part of the conversation with the Gerudo.

"Hey, why was Ganon talking to you?" Vaati asked. Damn.

"Er, just giving me a "welcoming speech," I would presume," Ghirahim said with distaste.

"He's a pretty big jerk," Link shrugged, taking a huge bite of Dodongo tail sandwhich, lamenting that is wasn't Octorok salad. "It's best to just avoid him. He likes terrorizing anyone that he can get away with."

"I can tell," Ghirahim's tone with venomous.

"Did he try messing with you?" Vaati pressed. His red eyes narrowed to slits.

"He "tried," but he wasn't very successful," Ghirahim half-laughed.

"Well, good," Vaati nodded, and turned to Link. "So you wanna hang after school today, Link? Link!"

"Wh-what!" Link spluttered, startled out of his haze, Lon Lon Milk spouting everywhere. "Damn it, Vaati. Thanks a lot," he sounded cross and grouchy, as he used a few napkins to wipe up the mess.

"We wouldn't have this problem if you weren't staring at Sheik's ass," Vaati huffed, crossing his arms in annoyance. "He broke up with you. It's time to move on."

Link's long, elfish ears burned crimson through his hair. "Does this conversation have to be in front of Ghirahim?"

"If you staring at Sheik when I'm talking to you becomes a problem, then yes."

Link glared daggers at Vaati, then turned to address Ghirahim, "Well, now that Vaati has so graciously hinted at it, I might as well tell you that I am in fact gay."

"That Ganon guy kind of told me..."

Link was quiet. "Oh, he did, did he?" he half whispered. "I suspect you'll feel weird around me now?"

"Not in the slightest, actually. I don't see its relevance to our relationship - er I mean! Our developing relationship? Friendship? Um...I'm sorry. We've only just met, but I already like you both."

He expected the Minish and Hylian duo to give him strange stares, but they both only laughed light-heartedly. The fact that they weren't so uptight and critical provided him with an unfamiliar feeling of acceptance.

"So," Vaati tried asking again, "you wanna hang out today, Link?"

"I've got nothing to do, sure, why not?"

"Ghirahim?"

Ghirahim had the impulse to say yes, to accept their offer and begin developing the friendship between himself, Vaati, and Link, but he knew from the moment that he made his decision to start going to public school that he wouldn't be allowed to strengthen social bonds outside of school itself, to stay the night at anyone's house, to go on dates. With who, he wasn't sure as he didn't exactly have a preferred orientation, or one at all possibly, but nonetheless he couldn't experiment with that and attempt to develop one or which one he had.

He knew he couldn't, and he knew the exact reason why.

"I'm sorry guys, but Dad needs me home after school today."

He wished the circumstances behind it were as normal as Link and Vaati undoubtedly thought they were. He saw the disappointment in both Link and Vaati's eyes, but wish they knew that it didn't compare with the disappointment that he felt inside.


	2. Clouds

**A/N: I got quite a few favorites from just the first chapter alone! It's very flattering, but reviews are nice too, guys :3 Also, this chapter is short, but the next one will be longer.**

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you don't wanna walk with us?"<p>

By another stroke of luck, Ghirahim had also managed to have his last period class, Magical Studies & Artifacts, with Link and Vaati as well. He would be less alone at least in this class and History of Hyrule. The bell had signaled the end of school for the day, and Ghirahim felt his chest tighten; despite the obvious conflicts he would undoubtedly encounter with Ganon, he'd rather stay at school then go home.

Link and Vaati had, in one day, shown more decency to him then he had expected, and had found he had enjoyed learning and the presence of a new school. However, his happiness had begun to ebb away.

"I can't. I've got a few chores to do before I go home," Ghirahim lied, but because his response was so fluid, neither Link nor Vaati suspected anything as such.

"See you tomorrow then?" Link asked, and Ghirahim felt guilty for lying to him while looking into his sapphire eyes.

"Of course," and with that, Link and Vaati parted one way, while Ghirahim took his time walking home in the other.

It had taken him the entirity of a half hour for Ghirahim to reach his house; a few beads of sweat had developed on his forehead, and exhaustion clung to him like a defiant spiderweb. He entered the front door, and headed to his room to recooperate. He passed through the living room, but halfway through the hallway, he heard a voice call out to him, and halted midstep.

"Yes?"

"You know better than to just stand there. Get over here, Ghirahim."

Ghirahim felt his heart leap off of the highest cliff on Death Mountain, and he backtracked to the living room, a faint layer of chills gripping his body, where he faced his "Dad."

"Y-Yes?" he asked Demise tentatively.

"How was your first day, Ghirahim?" The politeness was cold and forced. Demise's scarlet, smoldering eyes seared into him.

"Enjoyable. I look forward to learning more." Ghirahim squirmed under the hostile gaze.

"Hmm...good. I'd hate for your idea of public school to fall through. I hope you intend to keep excellent grades and not cause any quandries for us. You know that I wouldn't feel too happy about that, yes?"

"Of course, Demise."

Ghirahim considered the possibility of Demise rooting for Ghirahim's failure, and this alone placed a staggering pressure on the Sword Spirit; it wasn't because he wanted to impress Demise, but rather remain in his good graces and not recieve a punishment that he was sure Demise would not be reluctant to deliver.

The Sword Spirit wasn't entirely sure what had persuaded Demise to allow him to attend a public school, and Demise had not revealed any information on why they had moved to a small house in the outskirts of Hyrule Castle Town Market during the entire time they had lived there. In fact, all Ghirahim knew was that, prior to living here, he had remained at a home that existed far away from here; far away from public schools, the other races, and a castle that was inhabited by a king and princess. Far away from Vaati. Far away from Link.

He didn't know how he had gotten here, either, all those years ago. His memory was fuzzy and the details blurred, as Demise had contained Ghirahim inside his sword vessel during the trip from where they used to reside, wherever that was, and here, outside a rather pleasant civilization.

But for many years, Demise had kept Ghirahim within the confines of the small house, under the dainty roof, forbidding him to journey outside the front door. He had once dared to teleport himself to a river nearby to bask in fresh air and sunlight, but soon realized with misfortune that Demise could track Ghirahim through his magic. The punishment had been severe, and had left Ghirahim with the fear of toying with escape.

So Ghirahim had recieved an education by Demise himself, chastised when questions were answered wrong and beaten when he questioned too much.

Ghirahim had learned of public school from the newspapers Demise would obtain somehow from the Town Market, and knew that it would be his only logical chance at release from this prison, even if for a short period of time each day.

When Ghirahim had brought it up one night, he had expected Demise to be furious, and to lash out at him. But Demise, shockingly, had agreed, and Ghirahim still wasn't positive what his Master's motivation was for allowing it.

Instead, he graciously followed Demise's instructions:

"You are 17 years old, your name is Ghirahim, your birthday is February 3rd, and you are to refer to me as your Father. And under no circumstances are you to bring anyone to this house. You are to always come home straight from school, by yourself, every day."

So now as he stood before his Master, he awaited him to say more.

"Go about your homework now, Ghirahim. I've business to attend to."

"Yes, Demise."

"I kind of wish Ghirahim could have hung out with us," Link sighed, plucking at the grass he and Vaati were laying in as they stared up into the blue ocean of sky hanging over Hyrule Field.

"Maybe he can tomorrow?" Vaati yawned, revealing two small fangs replacing his canines. Sometimes Link had the urge to poke them, to see if they could cut his finger, but Vaati might have been a bit curious to find Link'a fingers in his mouth. Lavender hair sprawled out around the wind sorcerer's head, and Link subconsciously reached over to twist it between his fingers.

"I hope so," Link smiled, staring up at the clouds, as their perfect whiteness reminded him of Ghirahim's hair.


	3. Left Ear

"Ghirahim? How come you can never hang out with us?"

A cold stone weight plopped into the center of the Sword Spirit's stomach. The sudden rush of anxiety elicited a pulsating headache, and the throbbing only enhanced the bruises on the side of his head; no one could see them though. Demise had lost his temper last night and the night before and had slammed Ghirahim into a few bookshelves, leaving behind ugly, large bruises.

Before, when Ghirahim would suffer any bruises or cuts from the violence, it went untreated and ignored, but now that he was frequently going out in public, he knew these terrible bruises would raise suspicion amongst students and teachers.

Ghirahim had almost expected Demise to demand him stay home from school until he was healed, but instead Ghirahim had been brought into the bathroom, and Demise roughly began administering Fairy Ointment to the bruises to make them heal faster, and performed a few spells to manipulate the bruises to match Ghirahim's skin.

"Master, I could have done it myself - "

"Just be quiet, would you?"

"I'm sorry, Master," Ghirahim had apologized quietly. Demise might not have been gentle in applying the ointment, but never before had Ghirahim experienced any act of kindness, or compassion, from Demise. It would have been much easier to keep Ghirahim home for a few days, disguised as him being sick, but his effort to patch Ghirahim up had made the Sword Spirit's heart swell in an unfamiliar way.

"Well," Ghirahim began, trying hard to stifle his discomfort, "my Dad is kind of...forceful on his rules. I can't stray outside them."

"You mean he's strict?" Link asked.

The two were sitting alone together during the hour lunch they got on Wednesdays for block schedule. Vaati hadn't shown up at school, and while Ghirahim was fond of him as a person, there was something more alluring about Link that had become more and more prevalent to Ghirahim in the past month and a half.

"Er, yes," Ghirahim agreed. "He's very strict."

"That's a bummer..." Link sighed. "I really wish we could hang out more together, alone, without the entire school watching us."

"That'd be nice," Ghirahim agreed again, nodding.

"What would be nice?" came a familiar voice. Ghirahim's eyes narrowed and his nose wrinkled in disgust, as Link moaned in agitation.

Ganon approached the table, a few Gerudo girls surrounding him. They were sneaking glances at both Link and Ghirahim, snickering behind their hands and huddled together whispering. Ghirahim rolled his eyes.

"What do you want, Ganon?"

"I'd like to know what you two were talking about. _What would be so nice?" _Ganon cast Link a suggestive wink, to which his upper lip curled.

"Frankly, you pathetic maggot, it's none of your business," Ghirahim growled. "You should take your numerous girlfriends and leave."

"Not my business, eh?" Ganon retorted, ignoring the comment directed towards the Gerudo girls that were watching intensely, preying on the drama that Ganon was creating. "I also happen to know many things that aren't my business. If you catch my drift."

Ganon's hand reached forward and snatched a handful of Ghirahim's platinum white hair in one fistful; the bruises on his head flared in pain, and felt his hair that usually served as a sheild over his left ear lift. He barely registered Link's gasp, before the Hylian had thrown himself onto Ganon.

Instantly, the entire table fell over, food spilled onto the ground, and Ghirahim found himself at the bottom of a dog pile, Link sprawled on top with Ganon merged between them both.

Consumed with rage, finally having reached his limit with Ganon, the Sword Spirit let his power radiate, threw up his arms, and let his power launch Ganon several feet, before rolling a few times and colliding into a garbage can. The Gerudo girls rushed to him. Link had been slightly knocked back onto the concrete from the impact, and was rubbing the back of his head.

A crowd had been drawn to the fight scene, and many students were cheering obnoxiously; some looked surprised that Ganon, the ruler of the school, had been taken out so effortlessly, while others stared at Ghirahim, too bewildered to fully comprehend what had just happened.

There was a moment of stillness, while Ghirahim stood still slightly radiating his power; Link remained on the ground, and the crowd's eyes darted from Ganon, who had just begun to sit up, and Ghirahim, who's eyes were narrowed in defiance.

"You stay away from me Ganon," Ghirahim commanded. Ghirahim and Ganon locked eyes for a few seconds, hatred smoldering in each set, before a set of teachers began rushing forward, extremely late to the scene.

"What happened here?" demanded an aged woman who, despite having gray hair, had a body that matched that of the Zora's who were on the swim team.

"Ghirahim attacked Ganon, Ms. Impa!" immediately one of Ganon's girlfriends, who had sky blue eyeshadow, shrieked, pointing her cobalt fingernails at the white haired boy.

"Shut up, Jessa," Link hissed from behind Ghirahim. He stood, albeit shakily, and testified, "Ganon was harassing us, he grabbed Ghirahim, so I tackled Ganon to get him to let go."

"You all come with me," Ms. Impa said sternly, her gaze passing between Ganon and Ghirahim. The crowd of students broke apart to let Link, Ghirahim, Ganon, and the three Gerudo girls pass through with the teacher.

They were led to the office of the principle, Mr. Rauru. From the moment Ghirahim had seen Ms. Impa and the other teachers approach, he feared that Demise would be contacted and informed of the conflict, and if Demise was contacted, Ghirahim might as well have just let Ganon beat him to pulp.

"So what seems to be the trouble here, Ms. Impa?" Mr. Rauru asked in a friendly, almost amused fashion, when the six students and Ms. Impa crowded into his office.

For nearly twenty minutes, each of the six students described the chain of events that led to Ghirahim blasting Ganon off of himself and Link, with unnecessary interruptions from Jessa and the two other Gerudo girls. Jessa continued to scream at Link, who just rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples.

Finally, after each had made their testimony, Mr. Rauru assessed the group before him.

"I'll let you all off with a warning this time. But the next time you're back in my office for fighting, I won't be so generous."

Ghirahim visibly relaxed, and Link shot him a sympathetic glance; Link would've felt awful if Ghirahim had recieved a punishment for defending them both, and even worse after discovering that Ghirahim's father was very strict. Link's grandfather was a bit old fashioned but he was not strict. If he discovered Link had gotten into a fight, there would be little reprimand as Link wasn't the type of boy to get himself in trouble.

Ganon and the Gerudo girls left first, led by Ms. Impa, and Ghirahim and Link lingered behind. They meandered outside and sat in the courtyard on a concrete bench, quiet, listening to the incessant buzz of infinite conversation. Ghirahim's relief still encased him, realizing how close he had come to having Demise's wrath bestowed upon him. After a while though, Link asked, "What happened to your ear?"

"My ear?" Ghirahim coughed, instinctively stroking his snowy hair.

"Yes, your left ear, what happened to it?" Link fixed a stern gaze on his friend. When Ghirahim seemed reluctant to say anything, the Hylian pouted, "Why do you hide so much from me? I thought we were friends..."

"We are, Link, I assure you, we are. It was just a rather unfortunate accident from my childhood, is all. Nothing to worry about."

"Oh. Well, good. I mean, I kind of worry about you...er, I mean - !" Link looked away, face turning pink. "I care about you. I don't make friends easily here, and having someone like you to be there when Vaati's not...it's nice."

Ghirahim was silent as he let that digest; Link's concern for him was flattering, but he knew too well that being concerned for him would only lead to disastrous results. It was best for Demise and Ghirahim's home life, as well as the real reason why his left ear looked as if it had been maimed, to remain a secret.

"You're a pleasant person too, Link."

* * *

><p>School had ended habitually, and as always, Ghirahim and Link spent a few minutes conversing before each went their separate ways.<p>

"See you tomorrow?" Link asked, as always.

"Of course. And hopefully Vaati too, there's no telling what that little bug has been up to."

They both grinned, exchanged more formal goodbyes, and Ghirahim began down the road towards his house. He made sure to fully appreciate the sunlight warming his grayish skin, to smell the scent of trees, sweet freshly cut grass, and the choking warmth of the desert - ?

"I hope you didn't think I was finished with you," snarled a voice, and before Ghirahim had a chance to move, he felt the weight of the large Gerudo on top of him, a nasty smile staring down at him.

He snapped fingers through his gloved hands, though, and within milliseconds was behind Ganon, who was gaping, stupified, at the emptiness beneath him.

"Nice try, Ganon. I'm fairly sure my power surpasses yours."

"Not a chance, freak!" Ganon launched himself again, only to be met with a cloud of diamond shapes and empty air. Ghirahim reappeared a few feet away in the opposite direction. "We could do this all day, but I simply do not have the time."

"You think I care?"

Ganon continued to lunge at Ghirahim, each time as unsuccessful as the last.

"I've tired of this game, Ganon. I've proved that I'm superior to you, so can we leave this childishness behind?"

"No, because I'm just getting started!"

Ghirahim, fatally expecting another lunge, realized at the last second the energy blast that Ganon has summoned, and before he could successfully teleport, he took the mass of black energy to his chest. He fell backwards, enraged. His fingers were poised to snap, but Ganon thought ahead, and producing a small dagger from within his clothing (which was no doubt illegal) he drove it into Ghirahim's hand.

Ghirahim screamed, consumed with fury. He had begun to snap the fingers of his other hand, but his momentary distraction had given Ganon enough time to ensnare his other hand in the same style.

"This is what happens when you don't cooperate!" Ganon hissed, placing his knees on Ghirahim's open arms, and resting the remainder of his body on his torso.

Blood was welling through the gloves of Ghirahim's hand, staining it vibrantly. His black eyes glared into Ganon's amber ones.

Even though the pain was choking him, Ghirahim continued to stare, unblinking into Ganon's eyes; Ganon's facial expressions soon melted, and was left staring blankly into Ghirahim's eyes.

When Ghirahim was sure he had effectively cleansed Ganon's mind of any current thought, leaving him in a state similar to that of a light sleep, he began sifting through his own mind, and soon managed to exercise his telepathic abilities on the Gerudo.

At first, he let the images of fire and flames he had seen as a younger child crawl into Ganon's mind; the discomfort became visible as Ganon's mouth twitched. Fire and flames led to burnt corpses, which led to ReDead infestations, to Dead Hands and Wallmasters, and in the twisted world Ghirahim had remembered, conjured, and projected into Ganon's head, these monsters were chasing him, hunting him. They screamed and opened their deformed mouths and unclenched their rotting fingers, and each took turns ripping apart the Gerudo.

By now, even though Ganon was frozen and his eyes contained a lifeless look to them, Ghirahim could hear somewhere in Ganon's consciousness the sound of screaming and fear. Finally, Ghirahim broke the contact, and almost immediately, life flooded back into Ganon's body; his skin darkened to normal complexity, his pupils shrunk, and he stared at Ghirahim, mortified.

"I'd suggest once more Ganon," Ghirahim whispered, "that you _leave." _

Ganon, with a wild and fearful look in his eyes, something so unnatural to see on the Gerudo's face, turned and fled, sprinting away.

Within seconds though, Ghirahim heard the footsteps of someone approaching, and thanked his incredibly good luck.

"Ghirahim!"

"Link? What are you doing here - ah, ouch."

"Don't move, you're straining the blades in your hands!" Link chided sharply, kneeling beside the Sword Spirit. "What in the name of the Goddesses' happened?"

"Ah, could you not use those terms around me? I'm not very religious," Ghirahim grinned palely, his grayish skin turning whiter by the second as blood continued to gush out of his hands.

"Here, brace yourself, I'm gonna pull these out," Link instructed, as his hands grasped around the handle of the left dagger. He tugged it out swiftly, causing Ghirahim to groan. The right dagger came next, but was not as easy to remove. It had been inserted jaggedly, and Link winced as he tried to pull the dagger free without damaging the nerves in Ghirahim's hand.

When it finally came free, Link placed Ghirahim's arm over his shoulder, even though Ghirahim was a bit taller than him, in an attempt to help him walk, but Ghirahim froze.

"Are you alright? Where do you live, I've got to get you home!" Link said frantically.

"You can't do that," Ghirahim replied calmly.

"Ghirahim, you're hurt, I'm sure your father will understand if I help you home!" Link implored.

"You don't know him," Ghirahim whispered. "Please, just let me go," Ghirahim tried to take a few steps forward, but staggered in a drunken fashion.

"There's no way you lost that much blood, unless...Ghirahim! Those daggers were probably poisoned! Please, I need you to cooperate so I can get you home! Where do you live?" Link seized Ghirahim and began stumbling forward with him.

The Sword Spirit's consciousness was swaying back and forth, but he managed to pointed in the rough direction of his home and mumbled, "It's a small house...kind of on a small hill. Hey?"

"Yes, Ghirahim?" Link asked as he exerted extra energy to carry the extra body.

"Don't let Demise hurt me, alright?"

Link's eyebrows knitted together in confusion at Ghirahim's strange choice of words. What exactly was he referring to by 'demise?' Was Ghirahim afraid of his fate? It could be concluded that Ghirahim was slightly hysterical from bloodloss and the poison coursing through his veins, so Link assumed Ghirahim was only afraid that he would die.

Ghirahim, as he flickered in and out of consciousness, feared the exact thing Link suspected he did, but not because he had been stabbed with poisonous daggers.


	4. Honey Blonde

**AN: Just in case anyone points it out anything that's not exactly canon - remember, this is an AU story (and I'm not a canon-Nazi) and I also haven't played Skyward Sword yet myself so little details might be a bit inaccurate.**

* * *

><p>Link hadn't managed to get far before Ghirahim passed out completely, which made supporting his dead-weight all that much more difficult. The gloves on Ghirahim's hands were doused in crimson, and splotches covered his strange, white, diamond cut suit. He had to let Ghirahim's long legs drag.<p>

As more and more time elapsed, Link began to grow more frantic. The path yielded no shops or houses that would contain people he could ask for help. The sun, instead of feeling warm and comforting, was blistering and made him sweat. Ghirahim stirred a few times, but never opened his black eyes.

The Hylian was considering stopping and catching his breath for a brief minute when he spotted what must be Ghirahim's house; atop a higher slope of land that inclined out onto the path he was currently on, the small, plain home greeted him more relief. Link pulled Ghirahim up the slope, his back aching and sweat splattering onto the unconscious boy beneath him.

He propped Ghirahim up, and pounded urgently on the door. "Please, help! Your son is hurt!" Link yelled, finally allowing a few tears to form in his eyes.

Footsteps could be heard from within, and finally Ghirahim's "Dad" appeared in the doorway.

Link gaped at the man, expecting a man similar in appearance to Ghirahim (white hair? Tall? Grayish skin?) but instead was met with a middle aged man with jet black hair, a thick build, and golden eyes. His face was sharp and stern, and reflected no emotions toward seeing his "son" bleeding out on the ground before him.

"Who are you?" asked Demise.

"I-I'm Link, Ghirahim's friend, something happened, he's hurt and poisoned, please, we need to help him - "

"I'll take care of him. You go home."

"But - "

"I said I'll take care of him."

The promptness and lack of emotion struck Link as odd, but he only nodded slowly, knowing it wasn't his place to argue, and turned to make his way back down to the path. He hoped Ghirahim's father was certain about his ability to heal the wounded boy, but knowing that Demise was a very strict man, knew his best bet would be to go home.

Demise's eyes shfited from Link's disappearing figure and turned to glare down at Ghirahim, assessing the wounds in his hands and the way his ashen skin had paled to a shade of white similar to his hair, and finally, begrudgingly, scooped up the Sword Spirit and brought him inside.

* * *

><p>Awakening brought an ocean of confusion to Ghirahim as he sat up in his bed, but the longer he remained conscious, the more he began to remember; when his memory finally had caught up to when Link had begun dragging him back to his house, he expected Demise to come in any moment and punish him for bringing Link to their door.<p>

Upon this thought, another horror struck him. Had Link seen Demise? If he did, had he seen him in his true form, or the human form Demise took around other humans? Anxiety nibbled at his innards, and when he heard the heavy footsteps of Demise, the small nibbles became large mouthfuls.

"So you are finally awake."

Demise, still unchanged from his human form, was staring expressionlessly at Ghirahim. The Sword Spirit attempted to sit up, but found using his hands to support himself was excruciating.

"Yes, Master. How long was as I out?"

"Ever since yesterday. You missed school today since you slept through it, but I've already informed the principal that you'll be missing the next few weeks."

"Master, I can't afford to fall behind - " Ghirahim shifted forward again, attempting to sit up but gasping in pain. There were a few blisters on his legs from being dragged the distance between outside the school and his home.

"You won't be falling behind."

"But you're so busy, how will you find time to - "

"I've arranged for that Link boy to come here every day after school."

While letting his expression reveal nothing, Ghirahim felt rainbows inhabit his heart at this news. He wouldn't even let suspicion as to why Demise was willingly going to allow Link into the house dampen his happiness. The throbbing of his hands wasn't too high of a price, if it meant seeing Link every day by himself.

"Thank you, Master," Ghirahim replied quietly, snuggling deeper into the bedsheets and trying to find a comfortable position.

"I have to business to attend to in town. Link will be here soon, so I expect you to progress significantly in your schoolwork."

"I will, Master." Ghirahim suspected, albeit hesitantly, that Demise was allowing Link to come over as a source of comfort as well, since it seemed he couldn't be bothered to ask Ghirahim and help him get over the violent the assault himself.

Ghirahim swallowed the drops of disappointment, but the fact that Link was allowed to take Demise's place in being supportive made up for his Master's lack of sympathy.

* * *

><p>Not long after Demise had left for the town market, Ghirahim heard a tentative set of knocks on his door. Painfully, he pulled himself to his feet and that was when he realized that the bruises crowned around his head still hadn't healed completely yet. Any movement of his hands sent electric charges up his entire arm, and the abrasions on the back of his legs burned as he walked.<p>

But, all of his agony was worth it to see Link standing before him, similing nervously and holding a few textbooks. The sunlight illuminated his hair to a more magnificent shade of blonde, which Ghirahim longed to feel. Something told him that it would feel softer than anything else he had ever felt before.

"Hi Link," Ghirahim murmured. He motioned for him to enter, and Link obliged slowly.

"Are you alright?" Link immediately asked. His eyes focused on Ghirahim's bandaged hands. "Can you use them?"

"Not so much," Ghirahim half smiled. "It hurts pretty damn bad."

"I'd imagine," Link winced. "So, what exactly happened yesterday? All I saw before I got to you was Ganon running off like he'd seen a ReDead or something."

Ghirahim let out a bark of laughter, to which Link frowned in confusion. Ghirahim nudged him with his elbow. "Let's say I took care of him."

"So he DID attack you!" Link fumed. "That might explain why he didn't show up today. Vaati did though, and holy hell was it hard explaining to him everything that happened."

A devilish grin slithered across Ghirahim's mouth. "I bet he was pissed that he missed out on everything. I know that I would be sick with anger."

"Oh, you know it," Link laughed. "He wanted to come over here after school, but his new sorcery lessons started today, and they're right after school. That pissed him off even more."

Ghirahim shook his head, laughing. "Well, I suppose we'd better start on homework?"

Link nodded. "The teachers said they'll give you extra time, so we don't need to rush through anything."

The concept of taking his time with Link gave Ghirahim a miniscule case of chills; the Hylian boy's presence shone a ray of light into the house that Ghirahim had always regarded as hollow and distant, and he once again developed an urge to feel Link's honey blonde hair. Instead, Ghirahim beckoned him down the hall and towards his room. He flung open the door and flourished his arm slightly (and painfully, but Link didn't notice.)

"It's a bit plain, I'll admit, but - "

"Plain?" Link exclaimed. "You've got a really badass sword sitting there, can I hold it?" Link was nodding toward Demise's sword, the one he had abandoned for the time being, which also doubled over as Ghirahim's vessel. He was the humanoid spirit of that sword, and touching that sword would be the same as touching any other part of him as he was now in his humanoid form. He could also be weilded that way, and for the time being, he wasn't ready to reveal to Link his true nature.

"Errr...It's my Dad's. I don't think it would be such a good idea."

"Oh, I understand," Link said, apology hinted in his voice, unwilling to offend the strange and emotionally challenged man. "But I still don't think your room is boring," he added, taking in the strange portraits on the walls and foreign design of the furniture.

For the rest of the afternoon, the two sat on Ghirahim's bed while Link helped him write out his answers to assignments, take notes on each subject, and study. Even though learning about the ancient uses of the Lens of Truth and writing a small essay on the significance of Lake Hylia were interesting assignments and Ghirahim enjoyed learning the material, he found himself more enticed by Link.

The Hylian boy's handwriting was elegant but held a touch of laziness to it; his voice poured out like the smooth, quiet chords of a harp. As Link read aloud passages, Ghirahim stared at his mouth, fascinated by how fluently he spoke and how his pale pink lips moved.

For the next few hours, Ghirahim and Link worked diligently through their schoolwork, and when late afternoon's semi-circle sun and fiery sky replaced the clear blue spread and thick clouds, Link closed the books and stood, helping Ghirahim up as well so that he wouldn't have to lean on his own hands.

"Unfortunately, I ought to be getting home," Link stretched drowsily. "I'm usually an early to bed kinda guy."

Ghirahim nodded. "I understand. Thanks for coming by and helping me and such. It's rather...noble of you." As usual, Ghirahim fished for what he thought were the appropriate words.

"That's what friends do," Link hummed. "You still seem so new to it."

"I suppose I am," Ghirahim frowned. "Is that a bad thing, Link?"

"Well, no," Link thought. "It means I can break you in any way I want!"

"Break me in?" Ghirahim asked, floundering in an abyssal pit of confusion.

"It means I can be the first person to show you what friendship is."

Ghirahim let his thoughts revolve around Link's words for a few brief seconds; he had always remained in his house when he was younger. He hadn't ever had the opportunity to make any friends, and frankly had always thought the concept to be a luxury, but now realized it was almost a necessity. Ganon had tried to lure him into a false friendship, but Ghirahim had managed to put two and two together and knew it had been Ganon's attempt to diminish any competition between himself and Ghirahim.

But Link, and Vaati had approached him out of simply wanting to, and that was what had meant the most to the white haired boy.

"I'm glad that person was you, Link," Ghirahim said softly, intensely appreciating that Link would lay out the foundation of what a healthy friendship was. He walked Link to the door, said thank you and exchanged good-byes, and watched with a small pang of sadness as the Hylian boy strolled lazily down the path and out of sight into the aging horizon.

He almost wanted to chide himself for such vulnerable emotions, but knew that Link, even though he was oblivious to Ghirahim's feelings, wouldn't betray him.

* * *

><p>Because Link had treated the walk with leisure, it wasn't until the sun had nearly disappeared into the earth before he made it back to his own house. It was so late that Smith had already prepared dinner, and was just about to serve it.<p>

Upon seeing Link, he threw him a surprised glance. "You're home pretty late."

"Remember yesterday what I told you about Ghirahim?"

Smith nodded, concerned. "Well, his dad is keeping him out of school for a while because of his injuries and requested that I go over to their house every day and help out Ghirahim with his work."

"That's very nice of you, Link" Smith said approvingly. "I just hope you're finding time to get your own studies completed?"

"Of course," Link yawned, slipping into a chair at the table and mercilessly consuming the food before him.

"Oh and by the way, I got a letter from Hyrule Castle today. I think it's from Princess Zelda."

Link swallowed a large mass of food. "Lemme see?"

A pale pink envelope brandished with red ribbons was handed to him, and if the envelope wasn't evidence enough, the scent of flowers accompanying the note assured him it was from his lifelong friend, Zelda.

His eyes scrolled the paper within and finally Smith asked, "So is there any big news at the castle?"

"Not so much," Link chuckled. "Zelda is just missing me since we haven't hung out since summer. She wants me to come visit."

"Don't you feel mighty special, being asked by the Princess of Destiny herself on a date?"

Link rolled his eyes. "It's not a _date_, Grandfather. You know it's not that way with us...you know that _I'm_ not that way."

Smith laughed. "You ought to find someone to go on a date with though, sometime. These are the years when they're the most fun."

Smith, having already ate, returned to the hearth in his workroom to finish up on his latest sword project, leaving Link to gulp down food and ponder his suggestion.

After a few turns on his mental carousel, Link concluded that there was really only one person that he would seriously consider going on a date with, and for the past few weeks he'd be getting to see that person every day after school.


	5. Vaati's Textbook

**A/N: This story has been getting a lot of attention - mostly through favorites, but thanks to anyone who has either favorited, reviewed, or added it to Story Alert - it makes my day to know you guys like my work :3**

* * *

><p>"I kind of miss Ghirahim not being at school," Link admitted to Vaati, as they sat together copying notes during their History of Hyrule class. Learning about the Interloper War wasn't nearly as appealing as his white haired friend that he had desperately missed sitting next to during class.<p>

"It is kind of a bummer that he's been out for over a week already," Vaati agreed. He leaned over to copy Link's notes, since the teacher was going too fast for him to scribble down his own. "What are you drawing - ?" Vaati inquired, prying Link's fingers away from the corner of his paper. "A heart?"

There was a rough sketch of a boy with a hairstyle that unmistakably mimicked Ghirahim's, along with the same dark shadows under his eyes, the small doodle enclosed around a heart that Link had also drawn and outlined with a red pen.

Link's face smoldered and his ears tilted back slightly, similar to that of an agitated cat's, and he glared at Vaati.

"That's so cuuuute," Vaati cooed, pinching Link's cheeks. "What's been going on between you two at his house every day after school~?"

Link's head thudded against his desk, hands clasped over his head. "Nothing," he groaned. "I wish there was, though. But I don't think he likes me the same way - "

"Mr. Link, Mr. Vaati, mind sharing with everyone what is so interesting?" came the sharp voice of Mr. Shad, as he gave the two boys a disapproving frown.

"Erm," Link floundered for words. "We were just sharing notes."

Mr. Shad only expressed his disbelief through his unamused demeanor, but nonetheless drew attention away from them and back to the lesson about the ancient sky beings known as the Oocca.

"Maybe you should ask him?" Vaati whispered this time as he continued to plaguerize Link's notes.

Link immediately shook his head, his blushing still prominent against his fair skin. "I can't do that," he murmured. "Besides, I don't think his dad would appreciate me hitting on his son..."

Vaati considered Link's argument and nodded; during the past week, Link had filled Vaati in on nearly everything that had transgressed between himself and Ghirahim, including that Ghirahim's "father" was very strict and distant.

"Maybe when he comes back to school?" Vaati suggested in vain, knowing that it wouldn't persuade Link but still wishing to be of some sort of assistance.

As he suspected, Link only shook his head. "I'll figure something out I suppose," he sighed, continuing to scratch down notes and adding a blue diamond earring to his Ghirahim sketch.

* * *

><p>"Damn it all - !"<p>

Link and Vaati had sat down at their usual table for lunch, when the wind sorcerer cursed and exasperatedly pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What is it?" Link asked uselessly, knowing that Vaati was going to tell him anyways, as he swallowed a large mouthful of food.

"I left my textbook in the classroom," he sighed, knowing that he'd need it for that night's homework, and turned pleading scarlet eyes to his best friend. "Liiiiink?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll go with you," Link huffed as he practically inhaled the remainder of his meal. Link grabbed his own stuff and they made their way across campus and upstairs to Mr. Shad's classroom, having to slip past a group of raucous Twili in the middle of the courtyard and a few Sheikah who had managed to perch themselves atop the second floor balcony, no doubt targeting potential victims for their pranks. The two swerved around and took the longer route to avoid being subjected to their practical jokes.

By the time they reached the hallway, it was empty, with each of the classrooms abandoned by students and teachers alike. Link's ears pricked up when he thought he heard the sound of footsteps behind himself and Vaati, but brushed it off as one of the teachers returning back to their classroom or a student going to their locker.

Vaati slipped into Mr. Shad's classroom (uncomfortable at being in there without the teacher as he remembered the incident during freshman year when he had gone in to a classroom to retrieve something, only to be accused of stealing from the teacher's desk and being suspended for nearly a week) and reached to grab his textbook off his desk when he heard someone behind him yell.

He whirled around, startled, to see Link bent over the desk by one figure with both of his wrists held out in front of him. The Hylian was thrashing about, yelling loudly. "Get off of me!" He tried to land a kick but missed and felt both of his legs lifted up, opened, and felt the person behind him thrust into his rear, laughing as he did so.

Vaati dashed through the line of desks, colliding with a few in his haste, and tackled the person holding Link's wrists out in front of him; through the blur, Vaati didn't realize it was Majora until he had the purple and black haired magician pinned underneath him. Majora's seething saffron eyes glared up at him, but Vaati summoned a miniature tornado that blasted him across the room and sent him flying into a cabinet of folders and textbooks.

Ignoring Majora as the magician tried to steady himself, Vaati then turned to Link and his assailant, horrified as he watched the pale teal figure's mouth lower itself to Link's ear and whisper something that made Link thrash about again and strain against his tormentor's grip, only to have a hand placed over his mouth to muffle his cries.

"Get off of him, Zant!" Vaati roared, conjuring another, this time larger, tornado that sent Zant, still gripping Link, spiraling out of the classroom and into the lockers in the hallway with a loud crash; a few other voices in the hallway could be heard screaming in fright or for a teacher.

Vaati drew another gust of wind that slammed Zant's head against the locker, stunning him momentarily and forcing him to loosen his grip on the terrified Hylian. Link wriggled free during this opportunity and scrambled upwards shakily, and took his place next to his lavender haired friend, convulsing with chills even though his face was red and temperature was high.

Zant grabbed his throbbing head, glaring at Vaati and Link.

"What happens when one day someone takes that little fag away from you, Vaati?" Zant sneered, eyes searing into Link and making him tremble. "Then maybe you'll wish you hadn't picked him over _us_."

"I'd pick him over you and your creepy gang anyday," Vaati spat, clenching his fists. Thousands of things ran through his mind, and he wished he could tell Zant how he was a much more powerful than him, how Link never got in him trouble with the police, how if he ever assaulted Link like that again, he'd tear him to pieces.

But as Zant moved to sit up, neither he nor Vaati could say anymore, as they noticed the group of students watching them intently, and soon a few teachers broke through the crowd.

Mr. Shad pushed his way forward, eyes narrow and expression livid. "All of you, let's go," he barked.

"Don't forget Majora," Vaati said simpy. "He's buried under your textbooks."

* * *

><p>"What do you mean I have to stay after school too for detention?" Link exclaimed, voice choking back what would have been a sob. "I did nothing wrong - <em>I<em> was the one attacked by that creep!"

He thrust his finger at Zant, snarling in fury at the tall, slender Twili. Zant only winked back and licked his lips, making Link's skin crawl. He wouldn't be able to stand being in detention with the leader of Vaati's ex-gang, but more importantly, he had to be able to make it to Ghirahim's house after school, as well to help him with his homework. He wouldn't be able to withstand the guilt of contributing to Ghirahim failing because he had no one to bring him his schoolwork or help teach him the lessons.

His brain ceased to think logically for a few seconds as he was overwhelmed by the injustice of it all.

"Really, Mr. Shad," Vaati pleaded. "We came in to get my textbook and Zant attacked Link. You can put me in detention for however long, but Link is innocent."

Mr. Shad turned to face Link, who was biting his lip in an effort to remain calm. He evaluated Link further, taking in how he was visibly shaking and how he kept swallowing nervously, in an attempt to rid his throat of the lump that had lodged itself there. Mr. Shad sighed, his disapproving frown softening.

"Very well, Link. You're free to go home. As for you three," he turned to face the two gang members and their ex. "Detention for three solid weeks."

Vaati winced, but nodded in acceptance to his punishment, while Zant and Majora expressed their discontent loudly.

"Do you want to make it four?" Mr. Shad hissed, as he led the students out of his classroom.

"By the way," Vaati asked nonchalantly, "can I get my textbook, please? It's kind of why we came here in the first place."

* * *

><p>There were a few light knocks on his door, and Ghirahim rushed as fast as he could, without reopening the wounds in his hand, to answer it. It was later in the day than Link usually arrived, but Ghirahim was content enough to know that he had managed to show up today.<p>

As he opened the door, he expected the usual lighthearted and light haired boy, and while Link looked very much the same outwardly, his face was blank and had tear stains down his cheeks. His eyes were puffy and red.

"Link...?" Ghirahim began, unsure what he was supposed to do.

"...!"

Within an instant, he felt Link's arms wrap around behind his neck, surprising him, and the Hylian boy nuzzled his face against his neck; a warm liquid began oozing onto Ghirahim, and fearing it was blood, glanced down in absolute confusion to see that instead of a red solution, it was clear.

_Tears...? _Ghirahim wondered, baffled. Link's stream of tears turned into sobs, and Ghirahim, at a loss for words as the boy he held shook and cried, brought up his injured hand to slowly stroke Link's hair in an attempt to comfort him.

And Ghirahim had been right: Link's hair_ was _the softest thing he had ever felt.


	6. Link's Spirit

"I...what?"

For a few solid minutes, Ghirahim had stood in the doorway, holding Link and stroking his feathery hair as he had bawled onto the Sword Spirit's shoulder, before Ghirahim had led the sobbing teenager back into his room, prompting him to explain his alarming behavior.

However, Ghirahim was having difficulty processing what Link had finally managed to describe.

"He, Zant, he did...what to you?" Ghirahim's thin eyebrows knit together as he frowned in confusion.

Link tried to swallow his shame, but only found his humiliation retaliating and swallowing him. His eyes could not meet Ghirahim's, so instead he directed his focus to the black and unorthodox shaped sword that was lay gently out in its stand; the angle of the sun streaming through the window made the dark blade glint in a beautiful, albeit intimidating, fashion.

He was fascinated by the strange shape of the blade, and made a mental note to one day convince Ghirahim's father to let him weild it; aside from the legendary Master Sword passed down as part of Hyrule's folklore, this foreign weapon was the only one he felt such a compulsion to hold. He wanted to use it for training, to learn how to parry while gripping it, his palm sweat coating the hilt until it always carried that musky, salty smell, as all of his swords did.

It was such a foreboding object, and he couldn't help but wish he owned it.

"Link...?"

The Hylian's attention snapped back to Ghirahim, who was staring at him, concern intense. He wiped away a few tears, unsure why Ghirahim seemed so oblivious as to why being sexually assaulted by Zant was traumatic.

_Unless..._a series of bombs exploded in his head as he realized why Ghirahim didn't understand.

"Ghirahim...you know what sex is, right?" his cheeks tinted red as asked the question.

"Of course. Reproduction, that's how humans - and er, other creatures multiply themselves." Link didn't seem to notice how Ghirahim had almost referred to himself as non-human, which was likely because Link had grown accustomed to the strange way that the white haired boy spoke.

"Do you understand what sexual assault is?" Link whispered, his fingers tracing random patterns onto the bedsheets.

"I...it's nothing something Dad has ever spoken to me about," Ghirahim finally replied unsteadily. "Please, explain to me."

"He did something sexual to me against my will...experiences like that are commonly regarded as traumatizing, and well...they screw with your mind. It hurts you, but not in a way people can usually see..."

"It sounds as if he has commited a crime," Ghirahim mused darkly.

"Technically, he did," Link sighed. "But the school isn't going to do anything about that..."

"Perhaps I can?" Ghirahim suggested. "Just tell me. Please."

To his dismay, Link shook his head. "There's really nothing much you could do..."

_There is one thing, though..._Link thought desperately, as he brought his eyes up just enough to stare at the other boy's pale white lips. A slightly lovely, yet tinged with a gruesome twist, feeling erupted in his stomach and chest, and he felt another wave of blood rush to his face and ears.

"Are you alright?" he watched Ghirahim's mouth pronounce each syllable. "You look like you're coming down with a fever. Are you sick?"

"I-I'm fine, just a little shaken up still is all," Link coughed. His pointed ears drooped, and he said, "We should start homework."

"Of course," Ghirahim nodded slowly, observing closely as Link moved about stiffly to sift through books and folders for their assignments and continued to swallow as if a Deku nut were lodged in his throat.

He wasn't very accurate with emotions, and found them to be an extreme weak spot of his, but Link's movements, facial expressions, and overall vibe were clear indicators that the blonde was in a severe state of turmoil. He wished to convince Link to set down the books and have him speak more on the subject, but found himself unwilling to put pressure on the traumatized Hylian.

Link had said himself that the assault itself had the potential to screw with his mind, and he didn't wish to prolong or increase any distress for his friend.

They went about their schoolwork dully, without their usual banter and liveliness. Ghirahim felt the absence of Link's lightheartedness unpleasant.

Finally, as the sun was beginning to lower itself into the earth, Link closed up the lesson and gathered the assignments Ghirahim had completed that he would turn in to his teachers for him in his absence the next day.

As he was binding his books together with a leather strap, Link suddenly asked, "Have you ever kissed anybody?"

Ghirahim paused in shifting himself forward, and accidently applied too much pressure to the wounds on his hands and effectively reopened them; blood began to stain the bandages crimson. He hissed in pain and he squeezed his hands together in an attempt to stifle the bloodflow.

"What is a kiss?" he murmured, as the blood leaked from the palm of his hands and through the bandages, down his wrist, and to the tip of elbow before a few drops splattered onto the bed.

Link had leaned forward, closing a fair amount of distance between himself and Ghirahim, before he began unwrapping the bloody bandages around his friend's hands. "Where are the fresh ones?" he asked, ignoring Ghirahim's question, to which the latter responded by nodding his head towards his dresser.

Link crossed the room and returned with the clean bandages. Before he began rewrapping the wounded hands, however, he pressed his pale pink lips to the palm of Ghirahim's hand, right next to the puncture that the dagger had inflicted.

The instant Link's lips touched his palm, a warm feeling engulfed him, starting with his chest and spreading to his stomach and face. Link glanced up at Ghirahim, lips still pressed against the skin, to see a blush developing across his face.

"That is a kiss."

Ghirahim had been struck with a deepset confusion, as he struggled to understand why exactly a kiss was so intimate, and why he was actually responding to it in such a_ human _manner; he had to remind himself that as of now, he was in his humanoid form which in some ways differed greately than that of his true Sword Spirit form. One of the differences seemed to be that he could respond in the same ways as a human - or perhaps he always could, but had just never been shown affection.

"I..." Ghirahim mumbled, unable to take his eyes off of Link as they both stared at each other. "I haven't ever kissed anyone before."

Link brought his head up, still retaining eye contact as much as possible, as he began to wrap Ghirahim's hands. Torrents of blood had washed down his ashen arms in such a fashion that anyone who was unaware of the situation would think he had been freshly wounded.

"Feel better?" Link asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," Ghirahim frowned softly.

Link shook his head and sighed. "I'll get over it."

"...Why do you hide so much from me? I thought we were friends," Ghirahim echoed the same response Link had given him the day of the fight with Ganon. He folded his arms and pouted.

Link couldn't help but let a small smile crack through the sadness plastered across his face. He let an idea, a slightly bad one, form in his mind.

"I'll tell you more about this tomorrow since I've run out of time today, if you let me hold that sword."

The obsidian blade, in the late afternoon glare of the sunlight, held an emberish tint. Ghirahim's reluctance was palpable, and Link immediately felt guilty.

"Nevermind, that's a rude bargain," Link apologized.

"No, it's alright. Actually, I'll let you hold it. But just for a moment." He nodded toward the stand.

Link stood, surprised, and crossed the room to the stand. He stared at the blade, taking in its string of diamond-esque shapes, and finally reached out to grip the handle.

The moment he did, although his back was turned so he didn't notice, Ghirahim flinched, feeling as Link had just firmly grasped a part of his physical being; it wasn't just a certain portion of his body that he felt being gripped, rather his entire physiological entity being held within the calloused palm of the Hylian boy.

He felt as Link smoothed his hand across the flatness of the blade, and Ghirahim felt the urge to purr in content as the lovely feeling consumed him. Link stroked the hilt, and made a slicing motion; Ghirahim felt as if he had a phantom limb that was mobile on its own.

Link finally returned the sword to its stand, and Ghirahim found himself instantly missing the lack of touch; it was different than being touched by his hand on his arm or face. It was as if Link were managing to touch his entire body, to hold him within the confines of one hand. This both drove fear into Ghirahim's heart, as well as comforted him in the same linear process; Demise never handled him so preciously, and had complete control of him as his Master owned the sword. He knew how power corrupted those who held it, and knew that Link must already be such a powerful swordsman to weild Demise's sword so elegantly.

But if he understood Ghirahim's true nature, what kind of sentient being he actually was, would that change how Link saw the white haired boy? Would he be tempted to weild Ghirahim himself in his humanoid figure as well as a black and jagged cold steel blade?

Ghirahim let these thoughts ravage his mind as he helped Link gather his things, unwilling to believe someone so pure of heart could ever manipulate him in such a way.

* * *

><p>The walk home from Ghirahim's house was always rather lonely, as Link disliked parting with his friend. He let his mind replay that day, choking up when he thought of Zant, but attempting to replace his humiliation with the feeling had had given himself as he kissed Ghirahim's hand; he blushed again just thinking about it.<p>

He was passing by the school when, in the distance beyond the parking lot, he saw a short figure running about and caught a flurry of lavender hair and realized that Vaati must have been released from detention by now.

His form that was thrashing about was accompanied by screams, and Link instantly launched himself forward towards the wind sorcerer.

His eyes met with Vaati tangling with a familiar teal teenager and his companions; Zant's gang didn't play fair and he had managed to recruit a fair portion of his crew to this event.

Majora and another teal skinned figure, this one with a more prominent chest and curved red bangs, were pinning Vaati down by his arms, in an attempt to smother his ability to conjur tornados. He was busy shouting obscenities in their faces, even going as far as trying to bite them.

A few Gerudo girls stood off to the side, sneering, daggers clutched in their hands, while a male figure who wore a large brown hooded jacket stood silently next to Zant as he watched Majora and Veran immobilize Vaati.

"Garo," Zant commanded. "Unsheath your fiery blades."

Garo nodded, and unsheathing them from somewhere too quick for Link to process, he lunged forward and was straddling Vaati, the two flaming swords held centimeters away from his neck.

At this point, Link had dropped his books to the ground and dashed forward, body slamming Garo and tumbling to the ground with him, the blades mysteriously sheathed. His feet floundered, managing to kick Majora in the mouth, and Vaati took advantage of the distraction and his one free hand to thrust a gust of wind at Veran that knocked her back several feet.

Zant had thundered forward, disgust written across his face. "I thought I took care of you, blondie," he snapped, and reached to grab Link by the collar of his green shirt, but was unsuccessful as Vaati cloaked himself within the eye of a conjured twister, his eyes glazed over completely red, irises merging with his pupils and the whites around the corners; the sky had turned a pale green, as the atmosphere around them turned very dark, as if it were about to storm heavily.

Vaati's twister snagged Zant off of his feet, and he circled within the cyclone several times before grappling with the wind mage. The two sparred within it, Zant recieving the most damage as the perpetually spinning currents of air disoriented him.

On the ground, Link had scourged the ground for any form of weapon and found a few dropped daggers. The Gerudo girls who had been there moments before had fled, leaving them behind. He snatched it up quickly, as Majora had already recovered (Vaati's battle with Zant had been started within seconds.)

Veran had already begun charging back into the fight, Garo following suit.

"Vaati! I need help!" Link yelled above the ear-splitting screech emitted by the tornado. The winds around them were tearing through the air, Link's hair flying about, his clothes being tugged in all different directions.

He dodged the flurry of attacks as well as he could, running against the strong winds, but Garo was too nimble, and Veran and Majora kept attempting to corner him. He wasn't sure if Vaati was too preoccupied with Zant, or if he just couldn't hear his cries for help.

* * *

><p>Ghirahim had glanced outside, noticing how the sky had gone from fiery to a dark, sickly color. He had only begun excersizing his humanity, but his intuition was throttling him, trying to explain to him that somehow, Link was in dire trouble.<p>

* * *

><p>He couldn't have managed to avoid them much longer as his energy was being sapped consistently by their cat-and-mouse game, and finally Link managed to be pinned to the ground as Vaati had been before. Garo glared down at him in silence, as Veran and Majora pried the dagger from his hands and held his arms down. He felt the circulation begin to cut off as they dug their fingers deeply into his skin.<p>

"You should have taken a different route home," Garo said quietly, the blades lowering to his neck. "You shouldn't have tried to be the hero."

Garo drew his arm back, preparing to strike, when a voice from a few feet away drawled, "If anyone is trying to be the hero, it's me."

Garo paused, arm in mid-strike.

"Get out of here, creep. You've no business in any of this."

Link heard a familiar laugh, and his fear was assuaged drastically. "You've no business in murdering an innocent boy. Let him go, or I'll kill you. Or," he laughed again. "Allow you to suffer a fate worse than death."

Veran and Majora seemed to take Ghirahim's threat seriously, and Link felt their hands lift from his arms. The blood in his constricted veins began to flow better again. They backed up and stood off in the distance, glaring at Ghirahim but reluctant to attack.

"Do you remember that Ganon fellow?" Ghirahim pressed on. "From what I've heard, he is no longer in school anymore." This seemed to catch Garo's attention, but his gaze never shifted from Link who remained underneath him, frozen and unwilling to move suddenly and suffer Garo's blades.

"He was unfortunate enough to try my patience too thin."

At this, Garo finally stood, and turned to face Ghirahim. "You're injured. How can you fight?"

More laughter escaped Ghirahim's snowy lips. "I don't need a weapon to inflict damage on my enemy." He expressly left out the fact that he was, in actuality, a weapon himself.

"Fight me, then."

Link watched from the ground as a blur of events transpired within a few seconds; Garo lunged forward with his blades, crossing them in an 'X', only to cut through a cloud of diamonds. Link blinked. Ghirahim had been standing there only milliseconds ago.

He glanced around to see Ghirahim yards away, grinning. Vaati within his cyclone and still battling Zant made up the background, and the shredding wind made Ghirahim's hair blow about his face; Link caught another glimpse of his strange left ear.

"Teleportation?" Garo voiced Link's thoughts.

"One of my many amazing talents!" Ghirahim smiled. With a snap of his hands, he disappeared once more, only to reappear next to Link. "I'll give you one last warning."

Garo shook his head. "I've never backed down from a fight before, and I don't intend to back down from this one, either."

Both of their eyes locked, and Ghirahim became giddy inside as Garo had just made the first step of the forthcoming process much easier.

Ghirahim stood stark still, eyes half lidded in an almost seductive manner; Link watched in terror as Ghirahim and himself stood in the direct path that Garo had begun charging in. He was confused as to why Ghirahim implied no intentions of an offensive strike.

But Link trusted Ghirahim's judgement, so he stared as the rest of the scene unfolded before his blue eyes; Garo's sprint had slowed as if time itself had begun to drag him behind, and before long his entire body had been halted. His eyes glazed over, emotion draining from them. Ghirahim's eyes remained narrowed like a cat's.

He watched as Garo wavered, before dropping to his knees, staring at the Sword Spirit as if blindly worshipping him, facial muscles never moving, eyes never blinking.

And then, that's when Link saw the corner of Garo's eye twitch. (He had fallen to his knees a mere two feet away from himself and Ghirahim.) It was passive, almost unnoticable, and at first Link was convinced he had imagined it.

But when Garo's eyes begin to widen, and slowly his mouth twitched opened into gaping horror and screamed loudly, arms wrapped around his head securely, Link knew that it had not been his imagination.

Ghirahim, grinning softly and with relaxed eyes, whispered something that Link could not translate.

"No!" Garo shrieked. "Stop!" he had crashed onto the ground, writhing, still clutching his head.

The removal of pain was not instantaneous, and Ghirahim allowed the teenager in the hooded jacket to suffer his torture a few minutes more before his narrowed eyes opened to fullness again, and the grin only stretched further across his lips.

"I would suggest," he whispered, "that you leave."

There was the sound of upturned earth, and Garo had fled, stumbling ungracefully over his own two legs. Link's gaze took in the clearing and realized that Majora and Veran had fled themselves, too. He theorized it was most likely they had once Ghirahim had begun his assault on Garo.

It wasn't much longer before they saw Vaati's cyclone begin to shrink, and Zant's figure drop onto the ground from a staggering distance in the air. He wobbled a few times as he attempted to stand up, and only managed to run away shaking, tripping often.

Vaati lowered himself to the ground, flowing hair surprisingly in tact, and limped over to his two friends.

"I'm not sure how much more of this I can handle," he muttered, before registering Ghirahim's presence.

"Ghira!" he exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in so long."

"Nor I you, Vaati."

The three passed a few exhausted looks between themselves.

"I'm really sorry, Link," Vaati finally sighed. "They've really been getting you in a lot of trouble lately..._I've_ been getting you in trouble..."

Link shook his head in disagreement. "Your past is your past. You and I have both accepted that, but apparenly Zant has not. He's the one at fault."

Vaati shook his head sadly.

"This is only going to keep happening," he said quietly, sitting down next to Link. "After I saw what Zant did to you today, I..." he could only shake his head.

Link put his arm around Vaati's shoulder, letting silence soothe the overwhelming sensations. He faced Ghirahim, who stood by, watching in fascination at the way they interected with each other.

"You saved my life, Ghirahim," Link murmured. "How did you know?"

At this, Ghirahim let himself ponder. It was possible he had just sensed Vaati's tornado and subconsciously knew Link could be in danger, but the real reason, he knew, was that somehow, because of Link's purity, he had instantly bonded with the sword that he himself was the spirit of, and transferred some of Link's spirit over to Ghirahim, merging a part of themselves together.

Demise never managed to establish that sort of contract because he was not pure enough for the sword to recognize him. He only possessed enough power to command Ghirahim.

"A sixth sense, I suppose," he finally replied, sitting down on the ground next to his two battered best friends.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, Link and Ghira's relationship is starting to develop a bit more. I don't want to rush anything, as it would ruin the plot of the entire story, but I'm sorry for how little romance there is just yet - but don't worry, it'll begin to develop more~**

**Also, I noticed this chapter was a bit longer than the others. I'm sure this is a good thing for my readers, yes?**


	7. Letter

A few days had passed after the incident with Zant's gang, and Ghirahim found himself lounging about the house as he usually did during the day while Link was at school and Demise had gone to the Town Market as it was ritual for him to do so from early morning until evening; he usually spent his time reading or studying, but today was feel particularly restless.

He stretched carefully, mindful of his hands, and slipped into Demise's study-room. Demise had expressley forbidden Ghirahim to touch anything in there besides his books, as quoted by his "Dad" himself, "I don't want your brain to turn to Chu Jelly while you're not in school."

Spines of books, some ancient and falling apart and some recently purchased, yielded their titles to the Sword Spirit. He screened the rows of books, intent on finding something he hadn't read already, but sighed in disappointment when the only thing that matched that description was _Terminian Cookbook Encyclopedia_. He wasn't expressley interested in what ancient Terminians had made in tribute for the Four Gaints that they worshipped, and the definitions of each ingredient and what kind of dish they could be used in.

He turned on his heel to the front door, deciding to take a walk down to the river not far from his house, (as Demise had let up on the restriction of him being holed up inside all day) when something caught his eye; from the drawer of Demise's desk, he saw the corner of a letter protruding obviously, as if someone had stuffed it in there in such a hurry that they didn't realize it was sticking out.

Ghirahim knew, even as his hand reached out to grab it, that it was a bad idea, but his curiousity was so profound and boredom so intense that he just couldn't ignore it.

He cracked open the draw enough to pull the paper out. It didn't look like regular paper, like that you jotted notes down on in school. It didn't even look casual enough to use to write a letter to someone; this stationary revealed the Royal Family's crest on top, with two adjacent printed Master Swords running the length and bordering scribbled handwriting.

"A letter from the Royal Family...?"he murmured to himself in amazement, as he began reading:

_Dear Demise,_

_I have written this letter to inform you that your status as knight has been revoked, upon your request, and your application for becoming the king's secondary advisor has been accepted. The King of Hyrule has placed a considerable amount of responsibility on you, as well as bestowed benefits upon yourself and your son. _

_There is a scheduled meeting planned in three days' advance at Hyrule Castle in the King's Conference Hall, and you are obligated to attend to discuss the affairs of the country. _

_Sincerely,_

_Minister Potho, First Advisor of King Daltus X_

_This document has been supervised, approved, and signed by at least three other members of the Royal Family, including King Daltus X himself._

A few seconds passed, after Ghirahim re-read the passage a few times, and felt discomfort lodge itself in his stomach. He had intruded on business that Demise hadn't relayed to him (not that Demise ever told him much anyways) but finally begun to understand why the past few years Demise was always gone from sun up to sun down, as the date was of that a few weeks ago and he had just recently been assigned advisor - although now he wasn't sure he wanted to have discovered this, as he was certain Demise had a reason for shrouding his success from Ghirahim.

Demise had obviously felt he couldn't trust his "son" with this secret, and Ghirahim wished he understood why. Shaking his head, trying to understand, he tucked the letter back the way it had been when he came across it.

It wasn't until he was strolling down the path to towards the Zora River, breathing in fresh air and welcoming the gentle breeze, that it dawned on him why Demise had been so uninvasive and lenient lately - if Ghirahim were distracted with his own social life, he would be less likely to intervene in Demise's.

This both perturbed and exalted Ghirahim - as long as he got to see Link everyday, he wouldn't care if Demise never spoke another word to him again. However, whatever Demise was hiding, Ghirahim knew it had to be precarious and lethal, although he continued to wonder how he could pose a threat to his Master in any way.

* * *

><p>"Vaati, you can't..."<p>

"I told you, they're just getting to be too much to handle."

Link and Vaati stood in a state of misery outside the front of the school, both unsure what else to say. There were only a few students passing by them, not even casting them a passing glance, as they walked home from school or some of the more advanced students teleported. Vaati's hair curtained his face, but Link could see a single tear cascading, lonely, down his pale cheek. His finger wiped it away.

"Can't they just get suspended?" Link suggested desparetely.

"It doesn't matter," Vaati said quietly. "They still know where I live."

The climactic battle with Zant and his gang a few days prior had been expected to be a turning point for the better for their ex-member and his best friend, however to both Link and Vaati's dismay, this had not been the case.

The day before yesterday, Zant had Majora had jumped Vaati once again, this time within hearing distance of a teacher, and the three had been placed in the school's "alternative program" - it was basically a special class dedicated for students who couldn't keep themselves out of trouble, or sometimes pregnant girls who couldn't handle the toil of every day classes (although why they were put in with potentially dangerous students was a mystery to everyone except the staff.) They spent the rest of the school year in the same class with the same teacher and students.

The teacher hadn't accepted Vaati's plea that he wasn't a part of their gang anymore, and that Zant had been harassing him and his friends - almost everyone on the school's staff assumed that Vaati was just in trouble with Zant for reasons pertaining to their crew's business and therefor found him just as "guilty" and refused to provide sufficient help.

So now, Vaati was no longer in any classes with Link anymore, and couldn't see him during lunch. With Ghirahim's hands still not properly healed and mostly bed-ridden, Link found himself incredibly lonely. The only consolations were that, true to Ghirahim's word, Ganon had not returned to school since his confrontation with the boy with the strange left ear, and that Link had recieved a new letter and Swords Pro magazine from Zelda yesterday; to keep himself busy during school, he added to his letter to Zelda as he thought of things to tell her, and thumbed through the magazine, enticed.

_It's so lonely without Vaati_, he had wrote in the letter addressed to his lifelong friend. _And I wish Ghirahim's wounds would stop re-opening so he could come back to school...I wish a lot of things, really. I wish Zant's gang could get suspended, but they DO know where Vaati lives, and he's been getting small dead animals thrown on his doorstep. It's terrifying his family._

"I'm sorry, Vaati," Link whispered, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around his bestfriend. "This isn't your fault."

"It is," Vaati said bitterly. "I never should have joined them in the first place, never should have accepted his offer - "

"Stop that," Link replied firmly. "You made a mistake, but you_ fixed _it. You left them when you realized what was happening, you got counseling, helped out the people you stole from. You redeemed yourself. The teachers should be fired for ignoring you and refusing to help you just because you _once_ belonged to his gang."

"They should, but they won't be. There's nothing we can do," Vaati said flatly, a few more tears leaking out of his crimson eyes.

"I'll think of something," Link tried to reassure his friend, as they both found themselves drifting in opposite directions as usual - Vaati to his house, Link to Ghirahim's.

* * *

><p>"Vaati is moving?" Ghirahim asked incredously, hand placed dramatically over his chest. "Is it really getting that bad with Zant?"<p>

Link nodded, his face grim. "I really can't think of anything we can do to help get Vaati out of that class with him and make sure his family is safe, though."

"Me either...unless - !"

"Unless what?" Link asked hopefully, jerking his eyes up from staring at his hands to Ghirahim's face.

"You'll have to keep this bit of information between us, alright?" The solemnness in Ghirahim's voice alluded Link to the fact that his friend was about to say something of great magnitude.

"Of course, Ghira," Link nodded.

Ghirahim sighed. "I was browsing about Dem - Dad's book shelf today, and came across a very important looking letter lodged in the drawer of his desk. Curiousity got the best of me." He shook his head, both glad he had corrected himself on time with addressing his Master, and feeling reluctance beginning to rear itself, and he knew he could just drop this now, keep that Demise worked for the King as an advisor a secret, and liken his chance of preventing Demise from learning that he had read his personal mail.

But the desperation in Link's eyes to help Vaati and his own determination was enough to encourage him to betray his secrecy.

"Dad works as a secondary advisor for the King of Hyrule."

Link's eyebrows rose in surprise. "He never told you before you saw the letter?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Dad doesn't tell me much of anything, Link," Ghirahim gave a small chuckle, but reverted back to his somberness. "Anyways...it's a long stretch, but maybe if I hint at him that you and Vaati need help, he could do something?"

At first, Link's face betrayed his sense of faith in the idea, but the more he thought about it, the less strongly he felt about it.

"I don't know, Ghira," he finally said. "I'm sure the King of Hyrule and his advisor have more important things to worry about than a few teenagers. But, come to think of it," he sounded as if he were thinking aloud, "Zelda _did_ mention that a few weeks ago, her father and his committee elected a new advisor - "

"Wait wait wait - " Ghirahim interjected, shaking his head. "Zelda? Princess Zelda? Of Hyrule?"

Link grinned crookedly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Er, yeah. She's kind of been my friend since I was a kid. My grandfather is a freelance weapons-maker for the king's military. I spent a few years living in the castle until me and Grandfather got tired of living in such an uptight place. Zelda hated to see me go, I even think she was a bit jealous that I could so freely leave - " Here he stopped, and sighed. "I miss her."

"That's, rather, astounding," Ghirahim murmured, imagining a younger Link running about the interior of the castle, playing with the princess. He smiled thinking about how cute Link must have been as a child, before feeling a pang of intense emotion, what he suspected the humans called "jealousy," until a very prominent memory burst forth into his conscious mind; Ganon had approached him one of the first days of school to slander Link's reputation using a very specific example.

He had mentioned Link was gay.

He also remembered that Zant had assaulted Link, but the Hylian had never mentioned Vaati being assaulted in the same way. He had been attacked physically, not sexually.

It was common knowledge to everybody that Link was gay, so did that mean he did not have sexual feelings for Zelda? And moreso, why was Ghirahim so greatly concerned by this?

Ghirahim begun to realize that as himself and Link had bonded since they first established their friendship, since Link and Vaati had offered to sit with him at lunch, since Link dragged Ghirahim home after he had been attacked and poisoned, since he came over everyday after school to help him catch up with schoolwork, it had faded from his mind that Link was gay. Even when Link had given him a kiss on his hand, it still hadn't registered in his mind that Link was gay. Was this simply because of Ghirahim's strange combination of humanity and being a rather diverse sentient being?

And, although he understood what being gay was, his ignorance of more intimate and emotional human matters left him deserted. Link was gay, but why was that such a bad thing to everyone? Why wasn't everyone as passive about it as Ghirahim was?

"It was," Link admitted, unaware of Ghirahim's ponderings and startling him out of them. "She was the first person I came out to."

"Came out to?"

"Told that I was gay."

Ghirahim nodded, mentally jotting down what "coming out to" meant.

"Well," Ghirahim finally answered, "Perhaps Princess Zelda could use her influence to help us?"

Link put his finger to his chin. "You know, it's not a bad idea," he finally admitted. "She's been wanting to see me for a while, so maybe I could convince her to do something the next time I see her."

"I certainly hope she can," Ghirahim said. "It would be a shame for Vaati to leave."

The two, sitting on Ghirahim's bed, sat for a few minutes in comfortable silence, no doubt Link graphing out the idea in his head, while Ghirahim watched in amusement his facial expressions. What fascinated him the most was Link's eyes; they stared off at the wall in his room, but they weren't blank. Those two blue orbs were gorgeous, and he felt a compulsion to face Link towards him and stare at his eyes until he understood everything there was to know about the boy.

Instead, he stared at the wall as well and asked, "Why is it so common for people of your culture to regard being gay as bad?"

Link was jostled from his own thoughts, this time. His eyes regained their slack focus, and he seemed to think long and hard before answering.

"I guess it's because everyone thinks it's unnatural," he concluded, although he still sounded unsure.

"You? Unnatural? The only thing unnatural about you is how handsome you are - "

Link glanced up at Ghirahim, his cheeks turning rosy. Ghirahim felt that warm feeling inside him expand and travel up to his face as his heart began to beat faster, and he looked away.

"Um - " he tried to say, but found himself silenced by Link placing his hand gently on the tips of the fingers of Ghirahim's left hand, careful not to apply pressure anywhere near the punctures. If the wounds kept re-opening, they would never heal properly.

His fingers were warm and the slightest bit calloused from sword training, and Ghirahim found himself wishing he could train with Link sometime. There was the idea of Link wielding the sword that the Sword Spirit belonged to, the two of them fighting together, but this fantasy only made his face grow hotter.

"Thanks, Ghira," the blonde smiled sadly. His forefinger stroked Ghirahim's knuckle, the soft and spidery feeling sending chills up the latter's back.

Without saying much more about Vaati, Princess Zelda, or Demise, the two instinctively began their homework and studying, both agreeing mentally that contacting Zelda was likely their best chance in helping Vaati.

* * *

><p>It was one of those nights where Demise had lost his temper, for whatever reason he had not disclosed to Ghirahim. As Ghirahim was rummaging through the book case in Demise's study tonight (he swear he had come across a book that he could use for his biology report on fairies) the enormous demon, no longer disguised as a human man, thundered up to the thin, pale humanoid.<p>

"Master - ?" Ghirahim barely had the chance to ask before he felt both scaly and enormous hands of Demise grasp him by his lithe shoulders and slam him against the book case. Stars erupted behind his eyes, and he crumpled to the floor, his head throbbing.

_"SHUT UP!"_ Demise barked, glaring down at his "son." "You're very appearance angers me, boy!"

Ghirahim hadn't moved himself from the floor - half because a crippling headache had consumed him, and half because he was too terrified to move. In his experience, the less he fought back and more he "played dead" the less Demise would abuse him.

He felt a large foot deliver a sharp blow to his ribs, and he coughed out a strained whimper. A few tears clogged his eyes, but he clamped his eyes shut over them, and tried swallowing through his constricted throat.

"Get up," Demise commanded.

"I-I can't," Ghirahim cried, sides aching and head pounding; his arms and legs shaking with fear made it all the more difficult to lift himself to his feet.

"I said get up!" This time, Demise grabbed a handful of white hair and used it to yank Ghirahim up to his feet and force him into a standing position, which mostly consisted of Ghirahim more slumping to the side, leaned against the book case, still trembling.

Demise's blazing eyes narrowed at Ghirahim, his lip curled in disgust. Ghirahim expected more verbal abuse, more harsh words, but they were replaced with Demise slamming the Sword Spirit one last time into the book case, this time so hard that the sheer impact sent it tilting backwards precariously, then shifting and falling forwards, before crashing loudly, Ghirahim caught underneath it, books scattered everywhere.

Demise left as jarringly as he had appeared, his footsteps stomping throughout the house, leaving the white haired boy with the strange left ear trapped underneath the heavy piece of furniture, buried under the miniature library.

Blood had begun to pool around the motionless body, staining the pages of the books.

He moaned softly, the weight of the book case and all of the books making it difficult for him to breathe, the loss of blood making him dizzy, and the excruciating pain throwing him into a state of panic.

Before Ghirahim's consciousness was snuffed, he found himself attaching his mind to something pleasant in an attempt to calm himself down (as he did out of habit each time Demise's abuse hit the extremes) and he began remembering the softness of Link's fingers today, stroking his own in an attempt to thank and comfort him, even though the blonde had needed it more.

If Link could be strong, so could he.

As the black mouth of unconsciousness swallowed him whole, Ghirahim went out with a faint smile on his lips that were paler than usual from bloodloss.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So much Ghirabuse :c Do you guys hate me? ;~;**

**Also, for any of you interested, there is a poll on my profile, so go vote if you want (no one has yet) asdfghjkl, forever alone xD**

**Also ALSO, thanks for the abundant amount of reviews for last chapter, everyone, and the Story Alerts/Favorites~**

**Have Ghirahim plushies as thanks ^^**


	8. Ghirahim's Despair

His long, pale legs were submerged in the pellucid water; the glassy surface did not reflect the sun's rays or the bodies of clouds floating leisurely amongst the atmosphere, but merely absorbed them, revealing a white bed of sand a few feet deep. The coolness of the air was that of an early spring day, when the days were still brushing off winter's intensity from their shoulders.

Ghirahim watched as the pink fairies from Hylian legend flew lazily above the small spring, a few occasionally humming forward and dancing around his body, tickling his skin. He would reach out to touch them, to feel their wings, but they always eluded his grasp, moving swiftly between his slender fingers.

He played few rounds of pawing at the glowing orbs, laughing quietly, his voice echoing distantly, as the fairies would dive in and out around him, teasing him. It was after several minutes of this silly game that he began to feel a dull sensation of pain; it started out like a whisper, with long whispy fingers stroking his body, leaving a condensed agony in the form of a white mist in its wake.

But soon, the fingers pressed harder, the mist growing more opaque, making him double over and wrap his arms around in his body in an attempt to ease himself; the alarmed fairies spun around Ghirahim frantically, pouring their magic onto him. But each time they flew around him, the intensity of his aches grew, and soon he could see blood puddling beneath him from where it leaked out of his mouth, his ears, his nose. His abdomen began throbbing, as if a knife were dissecting him from the inside out at that very moment.

"Please.." a familiar, but hazy voice echoed throughout the spring. "Ghirahim..."

Ghirahim felt himself topple over, unable to sit straight any longer. The voice continued to plead, as if trying to arouse him from a deep slumber, but he instead let the pale fuchsia spirits twirl around him, draining the pain from his nerves and thinning out the dense fog that had grasped him and the entire spring. Through the frosty air, only the fairies could be seen bobbing about.

As the magical beings danced around him, the fierceness of his suffering slowly faded as quickly as the sudden pain arose; he opened his eyes once more to thank them, expecting to see the mist lifted and the clear as glass water and cold sun, but instead of being met with the Fairy Spring, he was met with a pair of blue eyes that were obscured by blonde hair, illuminated by dim lighting. All Ghirahim could see were two flushed cheeks, wet with tears. A few sparkles caught his eye, and he craned his neck stiffly to watch a tiny winged being flutter through his opened front door and out into the late evening, leaving behind a trail of fairy tears that started at different locations on body - places that, strangely enough, had been hurting him in his eerie dream.

"...Link?" Ghirahim finally rasped, finding his movements to still be awkward and hard to process. The taste of blood was heavy in his mouth, and the scent clogged his nostrils.

_I must look a mess_, he scowled.

"Ghirahim!" Link exclaimed, pulling the white haired boy deeper into his arms. Ghirahim realized that he had been sitting up in a very clumsy position, his head already cradled in Link's arms. "Are you okay? Did the fairy heal all of your wounds?"

"Where did you get a fairy?" Ghirahim muttered into Link's shoulder.

"That's not important," Link frowned. "Are you alright now?"

Ghirahim pulled away so he could breathe; Link smelled heavenly - of steel, sunlight, and earth - but he wasn't an efficient replacement for oxygen. Ghirahim pulled up his baggy white shirt that he used often to sleep in - and felt a twinge of embarassment of Link seeing him in it - and inspected his ribs; there was no bruise, and as he prodded it, it didn't hurt much.

He glanced up to address Link to inform him that his injuries had been healed, when he noticed the young swordsman was gazing at his finely toned stomach, his cheeks deepening their redness, as his ears began to burn, too.

"The fairy did her job well," Ghirahim said. Link only nodded, glancing off in embarassment to the side.

"Thank you," Ghirahim moved forward a few inches to close the space between them.

Link shrugged, smiling crookedly and rubbed his eye casually, but something told Ghirahim that the boy was incredibly flustered. He had begun to pick up on the signals that were unique to humans that expressed their emotions, and Link was definitely expressing embarrassment.

"What's the matter? Remlit got your tongue?" Ghirahim grinned.

The blonde shook his head quickly. "No, erm," he finally stuttered. "I was making sure you were healed completely."

"Where did you get an actual fairy, though?" Ghirahim asked again. Fairies were an ancient and hidden species that were difficult to find, let alone catch. Asides from feeling baffled as to how Link had acquired a real fairy, and not just Fairy Ointment, he wondered why he had seemed to know to bring one - the memories of what had happened prior to his blackout were beginning to bombard him, and he doubted Link strolled around with a bottled fairy in his pocket.

"I came here from visiting Zelda, and she gave me one. There's a Fairy Shrine in the courtyard for the Royal Family."

"How did you know you'd need it? I mean, where's Dem - I mean Dad? What - ?"

Link placed a finger on Ghirahim's lips to silence his blubbering. "I just kind of knew you were in trouble," Link said softly. "I came here and knocked and you didn't answer the door...neither you, or your father. I was getting sick with worry so I came in, your father wasn't here and well..."

Ghirahim watched as a few tears misted in Link's eyes. "The bookcase...and there was blood, there is blood, everywhere still...you're covered in it." Link was shaking his head, trying to speak calmy but his voice was cracking. "I thought you were dead."

With a soft twitch of his mouth, Ghirahim knew it was his turn to comfort the shaken boy, and so he wrapped his spindly arms around the soft boy - he could feel underneath the fabric of the boy's green shirt _(Goddesses does he love green_, Ghirahim chuckled inwardly) his lean and handsomely toned muscles.

"I'm better than ever," Ghirahim murmured, as Link continued to convulse, the shock of finding his bestfriend crushed under a bookcase beginning to set in.

As he began running his fingers through Link's hair, which he adored doing very much and regretted that he left traces of half-dried blood in the perfect honey strands, he began to wonder why Demise didn't seem to notice Link's arrival - until he reminded himself that Link had said nobody had answered the door, not even Demise. Did that mean he had left the house to go somewhere?

...Had his Master left him for dead underneath the bookcase? From the half-dried blood caked onto his skin, Ghirahim could only imagine that Demise had not left the house long ago, and that Ghirahim himself had been unconscious for about an hour; if Link had not sensed Ghirahim's predicament and supplied him with the fairy, it would possible he could have died, or at the very least, suffered some sort of head trauma.

These thoughts berated Ghirahim, encouraging him to hold Link tighter and closer; he had saved Link's life, and now Link had managed to save his. From the literature Ghirahim read of Hyrule's culture, they were what most people would call "even."

His eyes traveled the length of the room, finally coming to rest on the body-length mirror lodged and standing upright in between two of Demise's desks; as he had thought, he looked positively ghastly, with a swollen face, platinum hair streaked the color of rust and roses, and his shirt and loose sleep pants (the only loose clothing he chose to wear besides his cape and shirt) splattered crimson and brown.

Instead of staring, unnerved by his own reflection, he decided to focus on Link's hair, and how it smelled like the sun.

* * *

><p>"It's a bit of a push, Link, but I can talk to my father."<p>

Link sighed in relief, as Zelda eyed him carefully. "Is that what you were going to ask me last night before you suddenly had to leave?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Link nodded. "The school won't do a thing to help him, Zelda. That just can't be right. Can't they lose their jobs for something like this?"

Zelda's mouth tightened into a grim line. "They could. But there's a good chance everything could be overlooked and explained as more "gang activity." And I know - " she interrupted Link before he could insist Vaati was no longer affiliated with Zant, " - but that doesn't mean everyone else will see it that way."

Link angrily kicked at the stone floor of the castle courtyard. Zelda sighed, sadness radiating off of her like a storm cloud. "I can do my best, though," she tried to sound reassuring. "But for now, since Father is in the middle of a conference, do you want to do something? Hang out?" she sounded slightly hopeful.

The usual light that inhabited Link's eyes was dim today; he brought his eyes up to hers, only to shake his head, 'no.' She glanced down, disappointed - anticipating his answer - but nodded. "You're going to go check on Ghirahim?"

"Zelda, I don't know how he could have gotten trapped underneath a large bookcase like that."

"Maybe it was flimsy and toppled over?"

Link shook his head rapidly. "No no no, that couldn't have happened. He was lying down face first on the floor. Either something from behind pushed it, or..."

For a few seconds, the blood in his veins became ice. The details of the scene of Ghirahim's injury swam around in his head, and he began to register everything as he had seen it, as if once again he were rushing through the front door of his best friend's house and seeing him lying motionless, crushed, bleeding; the way Ghirahim's body looked sprawled out, as if he had hit the floor before the bookcase came crashing down; the heavy dent in one of the shelves, smeared with blood, that reached the same height as the back of Ghirahim's head where he had sustained a large gash that Link had felt when he had propped his friend up.

Only a tremendous amount of concentrated force could have managed to leave such a gorge in someone's skull, and Link shuddered, realizing to full potential, how Ghirahim, no matter how strong he was, likely would not have been able to survive that sort of trauma if his timing had not been so perfect, and the fairy he had brought had not had such strong healing magic instilled within her.

Each scrap of evidence could support that Ghirahim had somehow hit the back of his head on the bookshelf, and the force of him colliding into it could have strong enough to cause it to fall onto him; the only thing that he could not answer with certainty was what could have possessed enough power to inflict those sort of wounds - or who.

A cold, horrifying stone of suspicion splashed into his stomach, and he instantly felt ripples of nausea.

"Zelda," he whispered, voice chilled.

But he couldn't bring himself to even manage to croak out his conclusion, and instead allowed himself to stare blindly at the Princess of Hyrule, who closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to the Goddesses above.

* * *

><p>The fairy that Link had generously provided to Ghirahim had managed to heal almost all of his major wounds, including the punctures in his hands, and now the white haired humanoid was feeling restless and eager to return to school. The night Demise had lost his temper and Ghirahim had suffered abuse at his hands had marked another few weeks that had transpired between Vaati's imprisonment within school.<p>

Zelda apologized time and time again for her and King Daltus X for being busy, and being unable to allow Link to the castle to explain in full detail Vaati's predicament so that it could presented in a document to the king and his council.

But by now, brisk autumn winds had started to blow, and Ghirahim was growing endlessly distressed. He had wanted to return to school the following day after recieving the healing magic of the fairy, but Link had convinced him to stay home a few more days in case the magic wasn't strong enough to fully alleviate the dent in his head and the bruised bones underneath the ashen skin.

Grudgingly, Ghirahim had obliged.

He rarely left his room, fearing that Demise would be furious with him for making such a speeded recovery with Link's intervention. However, much to his surprise, but still instilling a great amount of anxiety in him, Demise said nothing to Ghirahim; in fact, Ghirahim noticed that Demise had not acknowledged Ghirahim the entire time that he still remained home.

Finally, when Ghirahim had grown sick of his situation, he boldly announced to Demise one night during a silent and one-sided dinner together, "I'm returning to school tomorrow."

Demise, in his human form, had stopped chewing, and glanced up at Ghirahim, face blank.

"You are?"

"Y-yes."

His voice was a shrug. "Fine."

And the conversation ended there, with Ghirahim plucking at the meal in front of him, relieved that Demise seemed to hold no more aggression - for now, at least.

* * *

><p>"Ghirahim, is that makeup?"<p>

Ghirahim transfixed Link with an unamused glare, outwardly hoping that it was threatening enough to influence the boy hold his tongue; unfortunately, it was not.

Link swiped his finger across Ghirahim's face, a layer of foundation and blemish removal smudging away to reveal a vile, purple bruise the same color of the shadows under Ghirahim's eyes.

"It's just a bruise," Ghirahim hissed, swatting Link's hand away. The two had wandered out farther into a corner of the school's courtyard and had chosen to sit with their backs against the trunk of the tree as they ate lunch. However, the sun rustling the tree's leaves cast a lighting that seemed to accentuate the grainy powder of the foundation he was wearing. Link, naturally, was curious.

"Just a bruise? Ghira, it looks like someone tried to beat you to death!" Link's eyes were narrowing out of his anger of Ghirahim's passiveness towards his injury. They were secluded, farther from the bustling and noise of the other students, and Link finally yelled, "Why are you hiding so much from me! Where did you get that bruise Ghirahim?"

"It was from the book shelf that fell on me. Yeah? That one? Remember?" Ghirahim felt his stomach turn sour from the lie that so easily spewed from his mouth, but Link didn't have to know Demise had thrown a bedside table at him and the leg had grazed him across the face.

"It's been nearly a week since that happened - _this one is new."_ Link's voice was venomous, and he glared, nostrils flared at the Sword Spirit. _"Stop lying to me."_

Fury became contagious as it bubbled inside Ghirahim's chest. "It's none of your business!" he snapped. He moved to stand up, but Link immediately threw himself at Ghirahim, pinning him to the ground. He grunted upon the impact, his head instantly throbbing as the back of it, directly where Demise had slammed it into the bookshelf, connected with the ground.

"Get off of me!" Ghirahim snarled, kicking Link off of him with his supple legs. The blonde only brought himself back up to a sitting position, his eyebrows furrowed together and mouth curled in distaste.

"When are you going to tell me what_ really _happened?" Link spat.

"What are you talking about," Ghirahim snorted.

"I'm not stupid, and neither are you Ghira. You know exactly what I'm talking about. I know that bookshelf wasn't an accident. Neither are those bruises on your face - yeah, I accidentally wiped some more of the makeup off when we fell over. And your ear. _Your ear wasn't an accident either, was it?"_

Link stood towering over Ghirahim; the magnificent mid-day sun shone behind him, casting the blonde in shadow and making his hair glow like a golden fire - Ghirahim found himself momentarily taken aback with the boy by simply how beautiful, no, breathtaking, he looked.

Combined with Link's stunning appearance as he was drenched in sunlight and his uncharacteristic sharpness, Ghirahim found himself speechless.

However, Link took Ghirahim's silence as defiance. There was a pause, as he watched Link begin to wither. "I told you all my dirty secrets," Link finally said quietly, sadly. "But you haven't told me a thing." He began to turn his back to his best friend, beginning to walk away and bring as much distance as possible between the two, when there was a tug on his hand; he looked down to see Ghirahim gripping his hand tightly, his eyes fixated on Link's.

"I really wish I could tell you, Link. I really do," Ghirahim said. "But it's best for both of us if I don't."

"How," Link only replied dully. "How? Because, _I _don't know how, but, somehow, I can feel your pain. When you're in trouble. And apparently, you felt the same, the day you saved me from Garo. How would it be better for me to not know?"

Ghirahim shook his head, and began to feel the build up of a liquid in his eye; he had never cried before. He had never experienced tears. Tears eluded him, he had never before grasped what sadness was.

Was this it? Was this what Link felt when he sobbed on his shoulder? He had known emptiness, giddiness, pain. But what was sadness? Why did this emotion feel desperate, hopeless, but somehow romantic, poetic, at the same time?

Ghirahim hoped on a level of great magnitude that Link would not notice the single tear, but he did. And this only seemed to alarm him.

"Ghira, please," he pleaded now, his anger completely dissipated. His thumb brushed away the droplet, more makeup smearing across Ghirahim's pale face.

The sadness began to intensify, as the breakthrough of such a strong emotion began throwing Ghirahim off guard; he felt sobs begin to build in his chest, and he let them out, shuddering as he cried quietly; Link draped his arms around Ghirahim, pulling the thin white jacket around him closer in an attempt of security; Ghirahim only cried louder.

"I-I'm not human," Ghirahim finally sputtered into Link's shoulder; Link silently thanked the Goddesses that no one had noticed the two of them huddled underneath the farthest-set tree in the courtyard, as the words Ghirahim gasped made his heart leap drastically, mostly out of sheer confusion.

Ghirahim looked completely human, albeit very strange, but human nonetheless. Gerudo were all women but were human; Hylians were elfish, but were human; Kokiri never aged, but were human. Even those of Zora, Goron, Rito, or Twili descent at least appeared humanoid. Link found it difficult to comprehend that Ghirahim was suggesting he was not human.

"I don't understand - " Link began, but Ghirahim interjected before he could finish his sentence.

"I'm a Sword Spirit."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ooooo~**

**I made a cliffie... - I REGRET NOTHING! **


	9. Invitation

"So, I erm...wait, Ghirahim, can you please finally explain this to me?"

School had ended about an hour ago, and Ghirahim, who hadn't answered a single question of Link's pertaining to what he had revealed during their lunchbreak, had agreed to dicuss it with him after school and once they were not within hearing distance of an eavesdropper.

Link had been confused why Ghirahim hadn't taken led him to his house as they always did afterschool; instead, they had followed the path straight past his small, inconspicuous house until they reached the curving bank of Zora's River. Ghirahim had walked a bit slower than usual, strolling down the path as if he were trying to prolong having to confront this issue with Link.

And now, they both sat along the edge of the bank, their pants rolled up to their knees with their legs submerged in water up to their shins, lulled into tranquility by the murmur of the incessantly flowing stream and the blanket of sunlight cascading through the clouds.

There was a long, breathy exhale, as Ghirahim registed the question even though he had been anticipating it all day, before he finally withdrew his gaze from the surface of the river and focused it on the two sapphires that were Link's eyes.

"It is just as I said. I am a Sword Spirit."

Link shook his head. "That's not what I mean. What exactly, I mean...what _is _a Sword Spirit? I've never heard of one before." He gave Ghirahim an apologetic smile, hoping that his ignorance of Ghirahim's heritage did not come off as offensive.

Fortunately for him, Ghirahim did not seem the least bit daunted, but he did avert his eyes back to the rushing water. There were a few moments of silence, in which Link felt it would be inappropriate to urge Ghirahim to speak, so he waited patiently for the words spring forth; finally, they did, albeit slowly.

"I was created by my Master to serve him. I was meant to inhabit his sword, to have two forms. A humanoid form, in which I could communicate with him and be sent to do his bidding, and of course my sword form, to be used in battle against other weapons." Ghirahim's white lips parted and formed a crooked smile. "Do you remember that sword in my room?"

Link nodded, at first unsure of its relevance to the conversation, but Ghirahim did not say anything else, undoubtedly expecting Link to fill in the blanks. With a few blinks of disbelief, and a round of chills engulfing his spine (similar to the ones he had experienced while visiting Princess Zelda as he had contemplated how Ghirahim had sustained his injuries) he finally gasped, "That is your Dad's sword."

Ghirahim nodded in amusement - and also sadness. He waited for Link to piece together the final connection of his story. It only took him a few seconds.

"He isn't really your father, is he?" murmured the Hylian gingerly.

"He is not," Ghirahim admitted. "However, he did create me and bring me into this world using his power. I suppose you could say that makes him like a father to me. The closest thing to one." There was no affection behind Ghirahim's words; he sounded as if he were an old, tired toy who had once held significant meaning to the child that owned them. In reality, Link realized, Ghirahim could probably be extremely, extremely old, depending on when he had been made by his Master.

_Made..._

The word sounded so impersonal and dehumanizing on Link's tongue and in his mind; but, it was true - Ghirahim had not been _born_ like Link, or Vaati, or Zelda had - he had been _made_.

"When were you made, Ghirahim?" Link asked softly. He felt himself yearning to know everything he could about this person, this Sword Spirit, this surreal being. He wanted to know how old he was, if he knew what day he had been made, (maybe they could give him the equivalent of a birthday?) if his Master was the only one to have created him, if he were the only one of his kind, what it was like to be an actual weapon...

"I can't say for sure," Ghirahim mused gently. "But I've almost always known most of my life to be just me and Master."

"What is your oldest memory, then?" Link pressed carefully.

Ghirahim pressed his finger to his lips in thought, before Link saw the white haired humanoid deflate with a long sigh. His one long, pointed ear drooped, and he fixed a melancholy glance on Link. His dark eyes took in the blonde boy's perfectly shaped face; cheeks slightly rounded to give him a soft expression, cheekbones high enough that his face didn't seem too pudgey, and his plush hair the color of the sun itself. By the Goddesses, he was beautiful.

"Everything has always blended together for me. Days into weeks, weeks into months, months into years. Only a few distinct memories stand out to me, and even now they have become faded and difficult to recall."

His hand reached up subconsciously to feel his left ear, as the more prominent experiences of his life began uprooting themselves from the footholds they had anchored themselves to in his mind; this did not go unnoticed by Link.

"Please tell me what happened to your ear," he almost pleaded.

"You are a very relentless person, Link," Ghirahim murmured, a small grin pulling at his pale lips. "It was an accident. Nothing more."

Link's jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed in anger. "You're lying to me."

Taken aback, but more baffled by Link's instantaneous accusation, Ghirahim stammered, "Why are you so sure of that?"

"You won't stop fluttering your fingers."

Ghirahim inwardly cursed his tendency of fluttering his fingers during stressful moments, as well as Link's keen observation. He hadn't noticed his spidery fingers were dancing about anxiously.

"That can't be a real indication that I'm not telling the truth - " he tried to deny again.

"For the love of the Goddesses, Ghira!" Link finally exploded, withdrawing his legs from the river and standing up stiffly. "Why? Why do you constantly lie to me about everything? Don't you think I can handle anything you say?"

The memories of Ghirahim's childhood, or what could be called a childhood, flooded his vision. All of the times Demise had screamed at him, had denied him the right to be outdoors and to feel the sunlight on his pallid skin, had beaten him and thrown him about like a ragdoll, blossomed like the fetal buds of a giant, thorny flower. He felt the pricks drawing blood from his fingers, which soon grew into entire wounds. The pain was overwhelming, and he couldn't bring himself to accept that.

"I..." Ghirahim finally sighed heavily. He shook his head, reaching a conclusion amongst the mess inside his constitution. "No, Link. I don't think you can."

It disappointed Ghirahim, and alarmed him greatly, that he found himself constantly doubting Link more and more - he had never intended to reveal this much about himself to the boy, and now felt the icy reprimand of regret biting at his toes. But he couldn't tell Link how his ear really had come to be so mutilated, or why his entire life was one enormous secret.

If Demise were to somehow discover that Ghirahim had told Link of his true nature, that the sword he was bound to belonged to Demise, that Demise was a violent and malevolent being, he knew that the incident with the bookcase would look like child's play compared to the repurcussions that would be served.

A smoldering frustration tinged Ghirahim, as he also wished he could stress the importance of Link's silence about his true nature, but he knew that would only open doors to more questions that Link would want answered, and Ghirahim was not willing to comply with that.

Instead, for now, Link's fierceness was doused, and he just turned his back to Ghirahim, watching the the river float away back towards the direction of Ghirahim's house.

"So," he said, his back the only thing Ghirahim could see, "why were you created?"

His detached tone jabbed Ghirahim forcefully, and reminded him painfully that he hadn't been made so that he could experience life, collect memories, and understand himself the way humans were. He had been forged by his Master for a reason.

One that he did not know with certaintly. He explained that to Link, to whom which sighed lightly. "To serve your Master, I would suppose," he replied, knowing it was the only generic answer that would make any sense.

Ghirahim nodded, half because he did not want Link prying further with any more questions, and half because he had mostly believed that himself, too. Demise did not value his life the same way Link did - it seemed to Demise that Ghirahim was very disposable and easily replaceable. If any instance were an indication of that, it was demonstrated the night Demise left him to die.

The passing years, while very quite uneventful for Ghirahim, had worn him down drastically. Just like any weapon, they could become dilapidated and brittle. Even the fights with Ganon had managed to dock some of Ghirahim's stamina. He, as a blade, was as sleek and powerful as always - as a humanoid, who suffered at the hands of his Master and people like Ganon and Zant's crew, he was steadily growing decrepit.

His skills with magic were still superior, and upon creation, Demise intended to design a body that could absorb a lot of damage; however, in the years that had passed, he had become victim to Demise's rage time and time again, more frequently than before. Being introduced to school gave him a vulnerability to dangerous students. He was losing his edge - his wounds healed slower, he couldn't keep himself conscious and poison, which he should be all but immune to, could consume and afflict him in the same manner that it would a common human.

Chills spiraled down Ghirahim's spine as he knew that Demise must realize all of this too - that his weapon was losing its edge. He had never known Demise to hold on to something that was useless to him. A small panic unfolded inside of him, as he wondered how long it would be until Demise had no more use for him.

So instead, he just nodded at Link, and decided it was time for them to return to his house. They had an essay on the Spirit Temple created by the ancient Gerudo tribe to complete.

* * *

><p>"I knew this would happen."<p>

"I'm really sorry, Link. I tried my hardest..."

"I know, Zelda."

"I don't even know what is so important that my father can't find the time to investigate. It's not like Hyrule is under any threat right now. Everything is so peaceful." Zelda crossed her room and flopped down, frustrated, onto her bed. Link followed and sat down beside her, placing his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

"How are we going to tell Vaati?" he muttered.

"I don't know. I guess if they already planned on moving, tell them that doing so would be their best option?" Zelda didn't seem as if she wished to give them that advice, but with the school and her father's law enforcements refusing to intervene, and Zant becoming more hostile towards Vaati and his family as well (more dead animals showed up on the doorsteps of Vaati's house, and unpleasant messages written in some sort of strange ink were being left on their windows), it seemed like the only logical, and safe, option left.

"This is all kinds of unfair," Link snapped. "I can't say I'm surprised, but there has been no effort. Not for Vaati, not from Ghirahim - "

"Wait," Zelda objected. "No effort from Ghirahim? What does that mean?"

"Well," Link's anger vaporized, but his voice became flustered, realizing too late that Ghirahim had nothing to do with this conversation. "He won't tell me anything. I know there's something up with him and his, er, Dad, but he won't speak a word of it. He doesn't think I can handle it."

Zelda tried to sound sympathetic, the topic of Vaati being shifted from. "Maybe it's more likely that he doesn't think _he_ can actually handle it, but says that _you_ can't in order to keep you at a distance?"

This seemed to make sense to Link. "Maybe so," he nodded. "But he's just so secretive, Zel. I wish he would just tell me whatever it is he's hiding."

Zelda's eyebrow arched slightly, and she gave Link a knowing grin. "You used to talk about Sheik like that, too," she pointed out, a flirty undertone hiding in her voice.

Link crossed his arms and turned his head away, pouting. "I did not."

Zelda folded her arms across her chest, and gaped incredously, "Oh yes you did! You never shut up about him!"

"You only remember all of this because he was your cousin!" Link countered, pointing an accusatory finger at Zelda.

She laughed, and her arms relaxed back at her sides. "You're probably right. But still," and she continued to fix that knowing look on her best friend. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you liked Ghirahim."

Link's cheeks became rosy; it wasn't something he had been willing to admit to himself yet, but by now, he knew there was no point in denying it. He had saved Ghirahim's life twice, and Ghirahim had saved his. They had spent long afternoons talking and learning about one another, and while his white haired friend was reluctant in confessing the truth about his life, he had already taken a few steps in that direction; this pleased Link, but only slightly.

It rubbed a sore spot on Link that he had admitted nearly every dark secret about his life, but Ghirahim found it necessary to lie about his. Nonetheless, Link had perpetually sketched pictures of Ghirahim during class, found himself thinking about him constantly, and tried to spend as much time with him as possible. They were clear indications of Link's affection for the tall spirit.

However, he wasn't positive how Ghirahim would react if Link were to tell him - would he even understand what chemistry between two people was? Was he capable of understanding love, or at least affection? Moreso, if he could, would he return Link's passionate feelings?

But the more Link pondered it, and the more he was doubtful of Ghirahim's ability to understand, the more he longed to teach it to the spirit himself.

Zelda, feeling triumphant that not only did she succeed in making Link blush, but also silencing him into understanding his own feelings, giggled. "You ought to tell him," she recommended.

"I can try," Link smiled, scratching the back of his head.

"Well," Zelda said in that tone that meant,_ 'Pothos will be in to help tutor me soon, so you should probably leave'_, "let me know how it goes." She stood, Link mimicking, and led him to her door. Just as he was leaving, something flashed in her mind.

"Oh Link! I almost forgot!"

"Yeah, Zel?"

"My birthday is in a few weeks. You're coming for the celebration, right? It's on the same day as Festival of the Goddesses."

Link nodded enthusiastically. "I haven't been able to hang out with you much the past few months, but I definitely won't miss your birthday."

"Good!" Her frosty blue eyes shone. "You should bring Ghirahim, too. I'd like to meet him."

_"Zel..."_ Link rolled his eyes, blushing.

"Bye, Link."

"Bye, Princess."

* * *

><p>"Who is that boy leaving Princess Zelda's room?"<p>

Demise's eyes, disguised as a human's just like the rest of his body, followed the form of a blonde haired boy, who was dressed in a long sleeve green shirt and beige pants, down the hallway and past a few guards, who cheerfully waved at him. He continued past, heading for the castle courtyard and large double doors beyond that would lead him to the road that led into Castle Town and the Town Market.

The messy blonde hair looked agonizingly familiar to Demise.

"That's Link," replied Pothos. "He is a very good friend of the young princess's. A few years ago, he used to live in the castle, too, with his grandfather. You remember Smith?"

Demise nodded, remembering where he had seen that child. As a knight, he had become very well acquainted with the swordsmith. However, he had not remembered seeing his grandson. Perhaps the boy had always spent his time in the castle with the princess?

But that did not matter. He had seen the blonde haired Hylian on his doorsteps once, holding the unconscious figure of his "son." He was the one that Demise had arranged with the school to have him bring Ghirahim his schoolwork. Since Demise had little interest in Ghirahim's friends or social life, as they were meant to distract Ghirahim and not himself, he had not remembered Link clearly - except for that head of unruly golden locks.

But the fact that Link was so close to the princess, as well as the guards and Minister Pothos, the Royal Tutor himself, interested Demise greatly. He knew from what Ghirahim had told him that Link came over with him after school nearly every day. If Link were as close to Ghirahim as he was with the Princess of Hyrule -

"...her birthday is in a few weeks," Demise jarred himself out of his thoughts just in time to hear Pothos say. "It is the same day as the Festival of the Goddesses."

Demise's human ears perked, but he masked it as false surprise for the Princess's luck, to be born on such a holy and honorable day.

_This day keeps getting better and better,_ Demise thought.

* * *

><p>"Ghirahim!"<p>

There was the slam of the door, and Ghirahim felt his heart throttled by fear within his chest as he heard Demise's pounding footsteps descend the hallway. He bookmarked his History of Hyrule textbook, hoping that if he was going to be battered about, he could at least return to the same page he was on without having to sift through the entire chapter.

But instead, Demise paused in the doorway. For a few seconds, he observed Ghirahim and the textbooks spread across his bed. His mind fumbled for a few more seconds as he thought of a way to start the conversation; finally, his memory landed on the report card that he had found placed on his desk the day before.

"You've been doing very well in school," Demise began. "Your grades are satisfactory."

"Thank you, Master," Ghirahim replied carefully.

"So I was thinking," Demise continued briskly. "That since because you've been doing so well, and because you've become so close to that Link fellow and he has been helping you get by in school, perhaps we could invite him over for dinner?"

Elation was clearly written on Ghirahim's face, as Demise cracked a grin - Ghirahim didn't notice the coldness it held, but he was too busy thanking Demise for his benevolence.

"Also," Demise added. "Tomorrow night I have to stay the night in Castle Town. If you think you'll be lonely, you can invite Link to stay the night here with you."

Ghirahim could have sworn he was drooling rainbows, and even glanced down on his bed to make sure he wasn't. As Demise turned to leave, Ghirahim returned to his textbook, less interested in the conflict between the Goron tribe and Kakariko Village that occured because of the interference from the Twili, and began mentally choreographing how tomorrow on Friday, he would invite Link to his house.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the long wait for the update D: I've been a bit busy, and when I had finally sat down to type the first time, everything was coming out wrong, so I had to redo more than half a chapter v_v**

**Also, I know most of you expected this to be a high school fic, and while it sort of is, it doesn't revolve much around high school itself, like most high school fics do. I think of this more as just an AU fic, where you can interpret as you will what time period it is - I've tried to keep it sort of vague. The only thing that matters to the story (in relation to what time period it is) is that is occurs later in the timeline than any of the Zelda games, so it doesn't necessarily have to be a modern day AU if you wouldn't prefer to think of it that way - likewise, if you *would* prefer to think of it that way, it can be.**

**It's all up to you guys!**

**Anyways, I just wanted to clarify that because I don't think I have, and it was bothering me xD**

**Thanks for reading~**


	10. Rain

Gray skies greeted Link, threatening rain. It was a solemn, frozen morning, and he began to fully appreciate how notorious the weather in Hyrule was for abruptly changing, or at least its dramatic speed-up in attempting to change seasons. It was not yet winter, yet autumn was beginning to dip its fingers in the chilly and sopping weather that accompanied winter.

He felt about as morose as the weather - he knew that after he met Vaati at Lost Woods Park, he'd have to tell him about the Royal Family's refusal to help him and his family. It pained him to acknowledge that there was no form of help that he could get for his friend - the people who ruled their country wouldn't even lend a helping hand. The confrontation would leave him feeling useless, and Vaati with no where else to turn for help.

In the distance, leaned against one of the many trees that dappled the park, Link caught a glimpse of Vaati's lilac hair. He was slumped against the tree trunk, hands tucked into his jacket's pockets. Even from a distance, Link could recongnize the lithe body of his friend - he was a very petite teenage boy, with a light frame and shortness that only accented that. Nonetheless, Link found Vaati to be a very beautiful person, but found it more attractive that when he let it slip once to the wind mage, he only smiled and thanked Link for the compliment.

Link had never harbored any romantic feelings for Vaati. It was true he found him attractive, and even truer that he did love him: as a friend. His fondness grew for Vaati after he discovered that he was a very dedicated person. A touch snarky, and with a very troubled past, but Link did not doubt his loyalty. Vaati had disliked Link at first when the Hylian he had offered his friendship to the friendless and lonely sorcerer, as Link could practically taste the mistrust fuming off of the ex-gang member, but eventually the two became known as a pair. Vaati was the only friend that Link himself had attempted to get to know first.

Memories of days they had spent together swimming down at Lake Hylia, or lounging around Lost Woods Park or sword training outside Link's house were brought back into his mind as he approached Vaati, and found tears misting in his eyes. In the past few years, Vaati had done nothing but defend and protect him; people stopped pushing Link into lockers, stalking him to his house after school, and jabbing him with "fucking faggot" every day. They still laughed behind his back, accused him of secretly dating Vaati, and threw rude remarks at him, but at that point there was nothing him nor Vaati could do.

The worst had been settled - for the most part.

Zant had assaulted Link, and Vaati took the heat from the teacher without forcing any guilt on Link for getting away scotch-free. Vaati helped him pass history, and nearly any other class that the sleepy blonde often found himself dowsing off in. And, if it weren't for Vaati's prodding Link to invite Ghirahim to sit with them at lunch, Link might never had found himself enamoured by the tall boy in white.

Link didn't realize he had strolled into the park until he heard Vaati say, "Hey, dreamerboy."

Link's thoughts burst like a giant, round bubble, but the mist still clung to him.

"Hi, Vaati."

There were a few seconds of silence, in which Link tried to compose what he knew he had no other option but to say. Vaati seemed to be on the same train of thought, as he asked, "So what did Zelda say?"

Cherry eyes scanned the desperate eyes of the blonde, and both knew without it having to be spoken aloud what Zelda had said.

"I'm sorry, Vaati," Link murmured, choking back a sob, throwing his arms around Vaati in a hug.

Vaati would have to leave.

Even though they couldn't see each other in school, they would be graduating in a matter of months, where they wouldn't have to worry about Vaati being in a different class; and they could still walk to school together, or be around each other after school. But not being restrained by school didn't remove Zant's ill feelings towards Vaati, or knowing where he lived.

But if Vaati moved, there would be no garuntee that they could visit, or spend time together.

Vaati only returned the embrace, his small arms wrapped around Link's back.

"I wish we could have done more for you," Link whispered. How many times had he tried to help Vaati, only to come up short? Vaati had been jumped by nearly Zant's entire gang, and Link had found himself staring at death, represented by two flaming swords, lucky that Ghirahim had somehow known where and when to come to his rescue. Link had rushed in, attempting to save Vaati, only to find himself needing to be saved.

As if Vaati could read his mind, he said back disheartendly, "You did your best Link. Don't blame yourself for the troubles I've caused."

Link felt his shoulder dampen, and knew that the suffering that Vaati had grasped onto for so many years had finally exploded through its dam.

They both stood in the icy mist that had begun to descend from the clouds, as if the sky itself were mourning Vaati's life.

* * *

><p>Ghirahim found himself sitting alone in the courtyard, Link nor Vaati anywhere in sight. He was the only one outside, as the mist that he had encountered on the way to the school had evolved into a thorough downpour - he had already become drenched, so he decided to sit and fully experience what the Hylians called "rain." Everyone else seemed to be disdainful of it, but even though it was a touch chilly for him, he found it pleasant; he had expected the Zoras to not mind the rain so much, as he knew they were an aquatic race, but perhaps it was too cold for them? He also knew Zoras weren't very tolerant of cold temperatures.<p>

The rain plastered his snowy hair to his face, and usually he would become cross with his hair being so disheveled, but he was too fascinated by the rain to mind.

He watched as people rushed by to enter the cafeteria or the hallways, or anywhere with a roof. Some of them stared at Ghirahim as they darted past, obviously appalled by his choice to sit and drench himself.

It was only when he realized that no more students were hurrying past that the bell must have rang - he vaguely remembered a melancholy sound swimming through the current of rain to reach his ears several minutes ago.

* * *

><p>Link didn't arrive to school until halfway through his history class. He and Vaati had spent nearly an hour sitting inside the gazebo at the park as Vaati poured his life story out to Link, even telling him quite a few things that he had never said before; that he had joined Zant's gang because, after Master Ezlo grew tired of his constant troubles at the Minish schools he attended and he had sent him to live with his foster Hylian family, he sought true family ties and power that he felt Zant could offer.<p>

He told Link how Zant had once shot him up with some unnamed drug in an abandoned allyway and then had begun making out with him for the greater portion of the night - he spat at how hypocritical it was for Zant to mock Link's homosexuality how he did, and how that night, after Zant left when Vaati began to come down off of the drug alone and scared because he was unaware of what the side effects would be and was so trashed out of his mind that he had no idea what was happening, that he just lied there in on the freezing and filthy stone allyway and cried until dawn burst through the horizon.

Vaati admitted to Link how much he had missed Ezlo, and how he wished his master had never sent him away, to a completely different world and with a completely different body. He told Link how he wished he had initially attempted to bond with his foster family, and how he loved them and wished he had never caused them so much trouble.

They were Ezlo's old friends, a pair of children who had discovered the Minish when they were young and befriended him. A much younger Ezlo, who at the time was still rather old for a Minish, helped the two children who came from poor families by showing them where in the forests to find berries that they could sell in the town market and help their families earn money. In addition to that, he served them by keeping their minds off of their loneliness by teaching them about ancient Minish and Hylian culture, as well as exploring the dense forests with them and introducing them to the other Minish from his village.

Those two children eventually grew up together, became married to each other, and reached the point in their lives where they had surpassed the innocence to see the Minish, but had promised Ezlo in their younger years that if he ever needed their help, they would do anything for him.

Over forty years passed, and they found a purple haired boy with a scar under his left eye and a letter from Ezlo attached to him.

Link had listened intently, sorrow hugging him close the entire time, and finally deemed Vaati too upset to go to school that day. He walked Vaati back from the park all the way back to his front door, hugged him one last time, and finally made his trek to school, taking his time and processing everything that Vaati had told him, ignoring the terrible weather.

Only when he realized that it was half way through third period and that he was still a long distance from school and Ghirahim was probably worried about him did he begin to walk a little bit faster.

* * *

><p>"Did I miss anything?" Link asked under his breathe as he slipped into his seat next to Ghirahim during history.<p>

Ghirahim nodded, and tilted his notes so that Link could view them better. He watched in amazement as Link began furiously scribbling, and rested his head on his palm in amusement, waiting for Link to finally notice what was different about him.

Only until Link had caught up with the lesson, did he cock an eyebrow at Ghirahim's attire.

"You're not wearing white today."

Ghirahim smirked. "I was, but it rained so heavily on me that my clothes became sodden. There was a teacher directing students who had gotten soaked into the nurse's office, where she was handing out clothes to those who were too wet to go to class."

Link took in Ghirahim's outfit; he was surprised how well he looked in something other than a white outfit clad in diamonds - not that he didn't find white, diamond-cut outfits adorable.

A short sleeved black dress shirt hugged his lean and muscular form, while a pair of gray pants wrapped tightly around his waist and legs, accentuating his tallness. The darker colors contrasted nicely with his stark white hair and bizarre skin tone.

Link also noticed Ghirahim's hair had a little bit more volume, as it was evident he had to use the nurse's gust jar to dry his sopping tresses. His bangs fell a little bit more naturally over the left side of his head, and tuffed out in little feathery bits in some places.

Link wanted to giggle at how cute Ghirahim looked, and instead he reached out one hand to run his fingers through the soft strands. He saw a small blush creep onto his cheeks.

"You like my hair, Link?" Ghirahim asked smoothly, trying to hide how flustered he was.

Link only nodded, and he returned back to his textbook and scribbling notes, still twisting the colorless strand of hair between his fingers, practically hearing Ghirahim purr.

It wasn't until it was nearly time for lunch did he realize he was still damp from earlier, and smelled of wet clothing.

_I'll have to go to the nurse's too_, Link decided.

When the bell sounded, he turned to Ghirahim. "Could you walk me to the nurses? My clothes are all wet and I smell kind of bad."

Ghirahim laughed. "So that's what that scent was."

Link huffed and clenched his jaw, ears tinting pink.

"So why did you arrive so late? Bad manners." Ghirahim _tsk tsked _and pinched Link's cheek, forcing him to pull away, the pinkness moving to his face.

"...I was talking to Vaati," he finally admitted, a solemnness beginning to settle on them.

"Oh?" Ghirahim tilted his head, displaying what he knew to be concern.

Despite the seriousness of this topic, Link couldn't help but feel a warmness inside him burst at Ghirahim's over-exaggerated display of human emotion.

"We talked for a while, and then I had to walk him back home. He was in no condition to come to school."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ghirahim frowned. Link nodded sadly, but stood and made his way for the door, Ghirahim in pursuit. He was unwilling to talk about Vaati right now.

They merged into the crowd of students who hadn't leaped at the sound of the bell, and made their way across campus. It was still drizzling lightly, and Ghirahim suspected it would be this dreary weather the rest of the day.

They reached the nurse's office, where a few other water-logged students were being handed clothes and instructed to go change in the bathrooms. Ghirahim stood beside Link as he was handed a dark blue shirt and black shorts, and walked with him to the bathroom.

He sat down outside the bathroom door as Link changed in one of the stalls. Ghirahim allowed his mind roam, and he began to wonder what Link looked like without a shirt - was he muscular, or a bit soft? Somewhere in between? Did he have abs, or a happy trail? Perhaps he had little to no body hair.

He felt the area between his legs grow a bit stiff as they almost always did when he found his thoughts of Link blossom this way, and he shifted his legs uncomfortably - these pants were too tight.

As if on cue, the door to the bathroom opened, and the blonde emerged donned in the new clothes - the dark blue looked handsome against his lightly toned skin and blonde hair. His blue eyes seemed to shift from cerulean to navy blue in accordance with the shirt. Ghirahim fidgeted with his pants some more, trying to pass it off as the waist fitting too low.

"Ready to get something to eat?" Link asked, oblivious to Ghirahim's minor dilemma, and Ghirahim nodded, dumbstruck. He followed behind Link closely, just barely remembering that he needed to ask him about his plans for tonight.

* * *

><p>"Stay the night? Of course!"<p>

Link had almost choked on his fish sandwhich when Ghirahim had proposed that he stay the night at his house. Link couldn't help but feel suspicious and a tid uncomfortable, as Ghirahim had always stressed his Dad's reluctance in allowing people into the house, and his strictness when they did come over.

"My mast-..er..Dad won't be here tonight. I'd feel better if you stayed with me." Ghirahim explained, understanding that Link probably found the offer to be rather strange.

"No need to ask me twice," Link grinned, before diving into his food once more, satisfied with the explanation. Ghirahim found Link to be an endless source of entertainment, with his eating habits being one of the things he found the most remarkable. The boy never showed signs of weight gain, yet ate more in one sitting than Ghirahim would eat in a day.

He plucked at his Deku salad with his fork a little bit more, watching Link through his peripheral vision - he found himself anticipating school to end, so that the two of them could enjoy having Ghirahim's house to themselves for the rest of the day and the entire night. If he were lucky, maybe Link could stay the entire weekend? Perhaps they could do a little bit of sword training, or he could read up on the ancient magical texts that Demise owned - his memory was sharp, and recalled the first time that he agreed to attend lunch with them, Link's interest was perked by talk of magic. They might even be able to go for a swim in Zora River -

His musings were interupted by Link.

"So, Zelda is having a birthday party in a few weeks. She invited you to come along with me."

Ghirahim glanced up at Link, who was taking a swig of milk. _He must have very strong bones_, Ghirahim pondered, remembering reading somewhere that milk helped human bones grow, and correlating that with how Link rarely drank anything else other than milk. He briefly recalled how Link had dragged him all the way home from outside the school the day Ganon had poisoned him; there definitely had to be strength in that boy.

"A...what party?" Ghirahim directed his attention to Link's statement.

"Oh, right," Link shook his head, smiling. "I forget you don't know much about this stuff. A birthday," he explained, "is just that. The day someone's mother gives birth to them. And a party -"

Ghirahim waved his hand. "I'm aware what those are."

Link found himself bewildered that Ghirahim was oblivious to what a birthday was, but not a party, before he reminded himself of their conversation the day before: Ghirahim did not have a birthday. A woman did not give birth to him. He vaguely wondered if Ghirahim had ever been invited to any parties before.

Ghirahim seemed to read his mind. "A distant part of my memory remembers my Master forcing me to attend these wretched, oh what do you call them? cocktail parties." He didn't bother to cover up the slip of his tongue this time - it was so much unnecessary effort, and Link already knew so what was the point in censoring himself constantly?

Link nodded, and then smirked at Ghirahim, his eyebrows furrowing in a rather attractive way.

Ghirahim returned the smirk with a disapproving stare. "What?"

"You need a birthday."

Ghirahim felt the exasperation building up inside him.

"I wasn't pushed out of a woman's vagina, so I do not need one of those." He crossed his arms across his chest, almost pouting. Link's eyebrow twitched at his blunt choice of words and stubborness. How could he not have understood sooner that a woman giving birth to you on a specific day made it your birthday? It was very self-explanatory.

"You need one, Ghira," Link insisted.

"No."

"Ghira - "

"I said no, Link."

"Ghiiiiiiira..."

"For the love of Din..."

The white haired spirit pinched the bridge of his nose, and finally growled, "FINE."

Link gave Ghirahim a toothy grin, elated that he finally convinced, or pressured?, Ghirahim into accepting. It might have seemed selfish on his part, but Link only wanted Ghirahim to experience things as humanly as possible, and how could you be human with no birthday? Even if it was made up date.

"So, when would you like it to be?"

"That's hardly fair," Ghirahim whined. "I didn't choose the day I was created, so I can't choose my own "birthday." Honestly, I don't understand you sometimes."

But Link was not discouraged. "How about we make it tomorrow, then? Since it was my idea."

Ghirahim couldn't help but feel that it was a rather fair proposition - the idea of him waking up with Link in his house on his "birthday" seemed pleasant.

"Very well," he sighed, defeated. While Link bobbed around in his seat as an attempt of dancing, Ghirahim rolled his eyes and let his lips curl in a small smile. If being given a birthday meant it would make Link happy, Ghirahim supposed he could learn to accept it - especially if he got to watch the boy "dance."

_I'll have to teach him how to properly dance sometime_, Ghirahim inwardly laughed, feeling that familiar warmth inside his chest expand.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day passed as Ghirahim had predicted - the miserable weather had not let up, and Ghirahim realized that himself and Link might have to walk through the storming weather. Thunder and a few occasional streaks of lightning decorated the sooty sky, and while Ghirahim usually found the flashing bolts enjoyable to watch and the cracks of thunder very musical, he was not keen on trudging through mud clear up to his ankle.<p>

These same thoughts did not preoccupy Link's mind, however; his brain was plagued, once more, by his conversation with Vaati earlier that day. He found himself being gnawed at by Vaati's confessions, and found his heart breaking from the stories the wind mage had told. How could he have been so ignorant of Vaati's ordeals, all of this time? Why had not Vaati told him sooner?

But these questions only left him feelings more bitter and useless - he could not force Vaati to tell him anything.

Nor can I force Ghira...

Link sighed, tucking his knees to his chest in a very awkward position in his desk. He absent-mindedly scribbled down the meaningless words the teacher was belting, knowing that nothing they teach you in school can save your best friend from a malicious gang, or help your non-human love interest fully understand the concept of humanity.

Link wanted to laugh at the irony of his situation, but instead opted for jotting down more sentence fragments. Perhaps going and staying the night at Ghirahim's house would help relieve himself of the tense thoughts that clouded his mind.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Ghirahim, who with a bored expression on his face was playing with his pen. He caught Link's eye, and winked, sticking out what Link realized was a very long, reptile-ish tongue.

Link's face blushed harshly, and he instantly lowered his head back to his paper and propped his elbow up conveniently, trying to hide his flustered face.

He could have sworn he heard Ghirahim chuckle lightly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I bet you all can't wait for the next chapter, in which Link stays the night at Ghira's house ;D**

**Also, I felt bad for Vaati having so little "screen time", even though he is a rather integral part of this story, so I decided to try and fix that. **

**So, the more usual romantic/sexual tension between Link and Ghirahim, Vaati's story being revealed, and Link...dancing? ._.**

**I need sleep.**

**Also, be aware that there might be some serious smut between Link and Ghirahim, if I decide on going that direction. Although, something tells me the lot of you probably read this in hopes that would happen? xD**

**But I didn't want to make this another "LinkxGhirahim have sex, lalala, teh end." kind of stories. Those are nice in their own way, but I wanted to try my hand at another multi-chapter story, since I'm stuck on the other ones that I've started. (Also, this story has become my main priority right now. I also occasionally add to the LinkxVaati 100 Themes series I started, so if you're disappointed in the lack of LinkxVaati romance chemistry in this story, check that one out.)**

**Okay, rambling over! D:**


	11. Silence

The perpetual downpour cascaded turbulently, and the thunder continued to purr across the sky, leaving many students who ususally walked home huddling inside the school's cafeteria. Link and Ghirahim decided to brave the storm, unwilling to yield to the weather and being trapped within the educational system for an additional few hours. By Ghirahim's estimate, it would be raining until tomorrow morning.

_There goes sword practice_, Ghirahim lamented. He and Link had left all of their textbooks in their lockers; fortunately they hadn't been assigned homework over the weekend and therefor didn't have to scrounge up a way to bring their work home without it turning into a sopping mess, and now had propelled themselves from underneath the canopy of roofs and into the mass of water being fired from the clouds like artillery.

The heavy raindrops clung to them and weighed them down, the wind buffeting them as it blared in the direction that they were going. Mud sucked at their feet, so they had to pluck their legs humorously, similar to that of a Cucco, and run in a spindly sort of fashion to avoid being fastened into the ground.

"This is ridiculous!" Link screamed over the ocean of rain. Ghirahim could barely see him through the sheet of water, and could only make out his blonde hair, which was so ladden heavy with rain it was a shade of brown, and his dark hued top.

"I know!" Ghirahim tried to reply, but his feet stumbled within the sludge, and he had to regain his balance and save himself last minue from a face plant.

"If I wanted a mud bath, I'd go to a spa," he muttered to himself.

Link had dashed ahead, not noticing Ghirahim's blunder, and Ghirahim had to launch himself forward and through the thick soup that threatened to swallow him in order to catch up.

Link was a faded dark blue ghost, unknowingly putting a great amount of distance between himself and Ghirahim. For a split second, he saw a figure ahead of him flash, and assumed Ghirahim had managed to sprint, or possibly even teleport, past him. It had the same dark attire of Ghirahim, but it was much more stocky and had a strange gait -

"LINK!" Ghirahim bellowed, and immediatly ceased running, knowing that Link could not hear him above the cacophony erupting from the skies; if he opted to keep running, he would not make it to the Hylian in time. He watched in horror as Link realized at the last second that the figure that he was approaching was not Ghirahim. Wasting no time, Ghirahim snapped his fingers and teleported himself the short distance that would place himself between Link and Zant.

(He had wished he had thought to teleport himself and Link from the school to his house in the first place, saving themselves all of this time and trouble, but reminded himself that he was in no condition to teleport long distances, nor teleport an extra person with him.)

The second he felt himself grounded in his new destination, he was bowled off of his feet, and himself and Zant landed with a _squelch_ into the mud, the two of them colliding with Link and knocking him back a few feet. Ghirahim felt himself pinned underneath the Twili, the loose earth staining into his clothes, and strained his hand to make a snapping gesture, but both of his arms were held above his head by Zant through his long sleeves.

"Nice try!" Zant shrieked, his voice carrying louder than the clap of thunder that exploded above them. Ghirahim felt his ear drops pop at the sheer intensity of both, and instead of relying on his ability to teleport, opted to thrusting his legs up to kick Zant off of him, although was not very surprised when Zant remained straddling his torso.

The Twili leaned in close to Ghirahim, his eyes burning like embers. "Where's Vaati?" his voice rasped.

"I don't know," Ghirahim spat, nose curled in a snarl.

Zant drew his fist across Ghirahim's face, busting his lip and drawing blood - the smell of the iron in the crimson liquid sent his senses reeling, and he had to steady his heartbeat lest he become so overwhelmed by the scent that he pass out. It energized him, but perhaps too much.

"He wasn't at school today, and I need to _talk to him_, but I'm not sure where he is and I can't afford to visit the wrong destination. So I'm only going to ask once more, since I know you know where he is - _where's Vaati?"_

Ghirahim only replied with a sneer, as out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Link brought himself to his feet and barreled over to bring Zant to the ground. Instantly relieved from Zant's weight, Ghirahim brought himself to a standing position, and snapped his fingers - a black saber materialized in a puff of diamond shapes, and he gripped the handle tightly - his tongue slithered across his lip and tasted metal.

_Perfect_, he grinned.

He sloshed forward carefully, wary that he could slip and impale himself - if he needed to take his time, he would. Zant had Link in a headlock, and Ghirahim's delicate ears could make out that something was being whispered in Link's ear - that Ghirahim could not clarify, but it wasn't necessary that he did. Something told him he already knew what Zant was hissing - he could tell by the way Link's fear flared inside himself. The fear only intensified as he drew closer, brandishing the saber, the invisible connection that linked the Hylian and the spirit together making itself heard - for a split second, the fear combined with his blood-high was almost too overwhelming, threatening to consume him and either force him to pass out or begin a deadly and sanguinary rampage, but Ghirahim bit back the impulses and forced himself to draw on the courage that was throbbing within Link; he faced their enemy calmy.

"Step aside, Link" Ghirahim said simply. His large eyes bored holes into Zant's, Link's fear making him sweat with anxiety and the taste of blood begging for more, but his courage turning his legs to stones, forbidding him to back down or cave.

Zant eyed the saber, and his lips parted in a smirk. He shoved Link away, who gave a snarl, but stood braced for battle a few feet away.

"Ghirahim, where did you get that?" he asked, taking in the sudden introduction of the weapon, but then quickly shifted to, "I need a sword, Ghira!"

"No, Link. If you impale yourself in this mess, I'll be very upset. Let me take care of this degenerate maggot."

Link's anger that had been bubbling since Zant's arrival spilled over top, and it was later that Ghirahim realized that he had developed such a strong need for bloodshed during that moment was drawn from Link's own rage and blood-thirst as well.

"I'm tired of everyone fighting my own battles for me! It's either you or Vaati, coming to my rescue, or me sitting on the sidelines, doing nothing!"

Ghirahim blinked in bewilderment, and Zant's nose twitched in annoyance, as Link continued. "I'm the son of a swordsmith, for the love of Din! I know how to fight in these conditions!"

"Link," Ghirahim tried to justify his position. "I don't want you - "

" - to get hurt," Link finished for him, his voice only elevating louder and louder. "I'm done letting Zant terrorize mine and Vaati's life, and I'm not going to sit by while someone else fights for me."

Zant seemed to possess the decency to wait for Link and Ghirahim to solve their dispute - whether it was because he was amused and took pleasure in conflict, or because he actually had respect for his enemies was unknown, but Ghirahim took advantage of every second they had before he knew he had to face Zant in combat; he watched the Twili draw two scimitars as that thought crossed his mind.

For another few milliseconds, he wondered if any of them would walk away dead - he could only imagine the world of misery he would be in if Demise discovered that he had murdered a high school student; he knew Demise wasn't above killing for fun, or disposing of those who were simply in the way, but Ghirahim also knew that Demise detested drawing attention to himself, as it has always been since they had moved into their small house downstream the Zora River. If Ghirahim took part in killing a student, that would undoubtedly bring unwanted scrutiny upon himself and his Master, and that would anger Demise greatly - he was not curious what kind of punishment would be served.

Ghirahim gritted his teeth and pushed all of that aside. If killing Zant meant saving Vaati's life, as well as protecting Link, he would suffer the consequences that Demise would dish out. The purpose of his life was to serve others, even if he was going against his true Master and serving other people.

So, relenting to Link's frustration and swallowing his uneasiness, Ghirahim's fingers snapped and conjured a sword for Link - he could sense Link's twinge of surprise, and chuckled quietly at Link's childish curiousity, knowing that through the rain no one could hear him anyways.

_If creating swords out of thin air amazes him, I'd love to spend all day showing him all the tricks I can do,_ Ghirahim mused. _If we can both walk away from this alive, anyways._

Ghirahim tossed Link the sword wordlessly, but it landed in the muddy slop, and he picked up with a huff. Zant finally spoke.

"So this will be a two on one battle, I see?" He slashed his scimitars together, creating a noise that grated both Ghirahim and Link's nerves.

"Unless you'll leave us alone," Ghirahim suggested. Link circled around Zant, bringing himself closer to Ghirahim.

"Just tell me where Vaati is," Zant said plainly, unamused. "I can't risk showing up at the wrong place."

"You expect us to betray our friend to save ourselves?" Link barked, face contorted in fury.

Zant shrugged. "Friends, disposable allies...aren't they all the same?"

It was at that moment that both Link and Ghirahim realized that Zant did not, and likely would never, understand the concept of valuing a life that didn't belong to yourself. His gang was not his family, they were not his friends. They didn't express concern for each other. They were merely a cold business affiliation, with Zant himself being the boss, and the rest of his crew, the people who looked up to him and acknowledged his power, being his employees - ones that were, in some part of his mind, nameless and faceless.

Vaati must have discovered this, and combined with the sheer danger of what he had gotten himself into and Zant's homoerotic fascination with him, had fled that kind of relationship. He had sought companionship, and even amongst having drugs forced into his body, being given degrading and illegal missions, and being an object, not person, of interest to Zant, had still not found it amongst Zant and the people who chose to affiliate themselves with him.

This fight would be more than just defending Vaati - it would be attempting to restore whatever emotional trauma that Zant had been responsible for, as well as Vaati's dignity.

It was Link who struck first, enraged by Zant's disregard for human life, for _Vaati's_ life, and with a passionate and stomach churning scream, laid his blade with a swift slice across Zant's torso; Zant blocked at last second, the two steel edges colliding with a_ clang_.

Ghirahim drew his saber back, fingers tightening on the handle, and targeted Zant; the constant stream of droplets in his eyes muddled his vision, but he blinked to clear them, his eyes stinging, and finally let loose with a powerful and insanely fast charge that sent Zant flying - the saber hit the right scimitar, and the combined effects of his own bodyweight and speed gave the bodyslam extra force.

Zant recoiled faster than Ghirahim had anticipated, and had to regain his footing in the slosh - Link took the initiative to lunge forward with a battle cry, but was jolted backwards harshly as Zant struck with an uppercut. Ghirahim's heart lurched as he watched Link barely block the attack, but mentally congratulated him for his quick defense. He plodded over, his white bangs plastered to the side of his head, blocking his view.

He joined in with Link, as the two took turns dueling the Twili; no blood had been spilled yet, and Ghirahim, who admitted to himself that he was insatiably hoping there would be, was somewhat glad that his nor Link's hadn't been - he held on to the notion that the scent of Link's blood would drive him up the walls, and that would be a pricey distraction in the middle of a battle.

Ghirahim was anticipating the moment when Zant would be struck down, either disarmed or too exhausted to fight back any longer, so that his telepathic abilities could be put to good use once more. Something told him that he would have to conjur up something quite awful to throttle Zant out of his already sick mind.

Fortunately, he was given his chance earlier than he thought; Link, with a beautiful swipe of his sword, managed to slit through Zant's sleeve and wrist and cause the Twili to drop one of his scimitars, hissing in pain. Ghirahim took advantage of Zant's temporary blunder, and prepared himself for a charge attack; the odds were in his favor, and he managed to send Zant flopping onto his back before he could retrieve his second weapon, his remaining scimitar disarmed from him as well.

"Link, pin his arms down!" Ghirahim instructed loudly, as Link dove to restrain the Twili, and Ghirahim stood towering over Zant, one foot positioned on each of his sides. He sneered down into the hateful, glowering eyes, already sifting through his mind for ammunition against this deranged person.

* * *

><p>Link had never asked Ghirahim what he had done to Ganon and Garo the times he had traced the strange ability that the Sword Spirit possessed with them fleeing in a state of panic and disorientation - he was actually a little terrified of asking. For the longest time, he had seen Ghirahim as a lonely and abused child, who needed guidance in the ways of understanding humanity; someone who had never known what a friend was.<p>

But now, as Ghirahim simply instructed Link to remove himself from Zant's arms, he reluctantly agreed, noticing that Zant's body had gone taut, and his eyes had become blank.

He watched, mesmerized in a horrified sort of way, as Ghirahim's dark brown eyes became half-lidded, and a dreamy, ghastly smirk slithered onto his white lips. When Zant's eyes begin to twitch, then widen in terror, he was reminded that Ghirahim was much more than an abused child - much, much more.

It was then and there, in the light mist that sprinkled the earth, that Link began to fully appreciate that Ghirahim was not human, and this was the first time that the realization of Ghirahim's nature frightened him.

Link watched as Ghirahim, the telepath, dragged Zant into an abyssal trench of torture, marked by the victim wrapping his long, teal arms around his head and screeching in what anyone would assume was pain. The Hylian recognized that he had been extremely fortunate in hailing from Ghirahim's good side, never having tasted his true wrath.

And the Sword Spirit was just that - non-human. He displayed obvious longevity and durability that was unachievable by human standards; Link knew that had Ghirahim been a regular human, he would not have survived being poisoned by Ganon, as he was sure that in the struggle to get him to his home he would have died. But he had not.

He knew that, after suffering severe head trauma and blood loss underneath a book case, a regular human wouldn't have survived, or at least would have been left with a permanent impairment - namely, brain damage. Even fairies could not heal wounds of that magnitude. But Ghirahim was not a regular human, and he seemed to surpass many of the biological limits that restricted those of mortal descent, and the healing powers bestowed upon him by the fairy had been enough to revive him.

Ghirahim could conjur weapons out of thin air, and could teleport; he could charge at blinding speeds, and was a telepath. Something told Link that that was only the surface of Ghirahim's abilities - and that frightened him to an even higher degree. His best friend was nothing short of a demon, but yet he held on to the notion that the white haired boy was still trying to understand love and compassion, and that in itself was what prevented him from being a truly evil and heartless force - precisely the entirety of what Zant was.

Now, he watched in silence as Zant pleaded intangibly for Ghirahim to relieve himself of his pain, whatever it specifically was, but Ghirahim did not oblige. His Cheshire grin never faded, and his round eyes remained partially closed and never blinking as he, arrogantly, barely held the telepathic connection (as the main portion of the equation was eye contact.) He would exercise his control in any and every means possible, while displaying the utmost pleasure in doing so.

"It's time you left Vaati alone, Zant."

Ghirahim's psychological grip visibly eased, but not enough for Zant break free.

"Do we have an understanding?" His eyes narrowed to two tiny dark slits, invisible fingers clenching the Twili's mind momentarily, agonizingly.

Zant feebly nodded his head, but Ghirahim instantly roared, "I don't think you do!"

His eyes widened, and spasms grappled with Zant's body, as he lay convulsing on the ground, Ghirahim's fingers twitching and dancing like spiders over his body; he was controlling the movements of Zant's body with his own hands.

"You've upset me and my Link for the last time. I've seen the hideous ramblings inside your head, and I find them irksome and appalling. When I recieve your honest word that Vaati will be spared murder, you are free to leave - _this entire town_."

A large, cold stone sunk to the pit of Link's stomach - he knew Zant harbored ill feelings for Vaati, perhaps even revenge that he had somehow justified (or not) inside his corroded mind, but murder even seemed like something only his sleazy crew members would stoop low enough to commit - if his experience with Garo was anything to go off of.

Everything that Vaati had mentioned to him wrapped itself accordingly around this new revelation, helping him reach a new level of understanding, and Link felt himself praying to the Goddesses above that Vaati would be able to reach safety.

Something told him, though, that Vaati had managed to find that. Perhaps it was returning him home before school to worried foster parents, or maybe the wind mage, being in the confessional mood he was in, voiced everything that had been eating away at him, and Ezlo's old friends were getting him the help he needed.

But something told him that Vaati would be going away for a long time, and when he came back, things would definitely be different between the two, but better for his petite friend - if he got the psychological assistance that he so desperately needed, perhaps he would come back a less troubled person.

The only other thing that slowly began to dissolve Link's thoughts was Ghirahim's choice of words: he had said that Zant had upset _"my Link"_ for the last time. Link wrapped his mind around that, and finally decided that Ghirahim had not said that on accident - all of his words were meaningful, but whether he had intended to say that aloud was not clear.

Either way, the heat inside Link's chest expanded, and he was reminded that Ghirahim did possess at least shred of humanity - he believed, though, that it was much larger than he was allowing himself to acknowledge at that moment, as he witness Zant struggle under Ghirahim's power.

And underneath Ghirahim's death gaze, Zant could only obey his command. Ghirahim seemed to fish around inside his victim's head a little bit longer, veryifing the validity of whatever was being commuicated via their invisible mental thread, until he finally seemed satisifed with whatever it was he had found.

"If I see you or your crew outside of school ever again," Ghirahim threatened with a clenched jaw, "I won't hesitate to murder _you_."

With that, Ghirahim gave a theatrical flourish of his hands, releasing Zant from his binds. The Twili scrambled up to his feet, face an unreadable mixture of shock and disgust, before backing away slowly, staring, and finally fleeing, hopefully for what would be the last time.

It had completely stopped raining by now.

* * *

><p>The walk home started off with silence. They plodded through the left over mud, thought it didn't mean much difference - they were both covered in dried mud and their sodden clothing hung to their bodies like plaster. Ghirahim was disgusted by the splotches, and spent almost the entire walk home wiping it all away.<p>

It was Link, uncomfortable with the silence, who spoke first.

"We're a real mess, aren't we?"

Ghirahim flicked away another crusting of mud, and chuckled. "We are."

"Do you really think that will be the last we see of Zant?"

Ghirahim thought for a moment, before finally replying, "I made sure to stress the importance of him never returning here again. I would like to think he took my threat seriously." He threw Link a careless grin.

Link felt a few prickles spiral down his back, and he turned his head away, blushing. Ghirahim had a very toothy smile, with very white teeth, and he would be spending the rest of the night with him - Link tried to reevaluate what exactly that meant.

He would be sleeping in the same house with a demon Sword Spirit who could summon weapons at any given time, teleport, move at ungodly speeds, and use a combination of telepathy and mind control. At any other time in his life, he would have just shrugged it off as some sort of silly superstition or the situation just never would have garnered so much fascination out of him; but now, that's all he felt: fascination, with a touch of fear.

_But Ghirahim would never hurt me, _Link assured himself.

He returned Ghirahim's smirk with one of his own, and as they neared the small house downstream of Zora's River, let his hand brushed against Ghirahim's, drawing comfort from the fact that his skin was at least slightly warm.

* * *

><p>"Do you think we did the right thing?"<p>

The elderly couple had been lounging about the house the remainder of the day, neither saying much to the other, their minds unfocused and frazzled. The house had always been quiet when Vaati was away, but this heavy silence that stretched to even the newly spun cobwebs in the corners of the walls was more ominous and left a larger gap between the two.

That morning, they had been awake when they saw Vaati leave for school as usual - it wasn't until he had gone out of sight that they realized that it was beginning to rain. They had started to go about their daily of routine of preparing a small breakfast and reading the Hyrule Times, but within a few hours of their morning, they heard a knock on their door.

They hadn't expected anyone to visit them, and had even less expected to see a pair of sodden teenagers on their doorsteps; one who's shirt was dark green with rain, and the other their own son.

"He's really upset. I don't think he can make it to school today," Link told them frantically. As they thought back on it now, and to all of the times that Link had been around their Vaati, they realized that the blonde boy had been an extraordinary friend to Vaati, and had probably saved his life.

They took Vaati inside, grabbing towels and drying him off, unnoticing that Link had left during the commotion, probably because he was in an almost similar state of anxiety and had no idea what to do.

As the two frightened parents dried him off, the frail teenager sobbed and attempted to say, although some of it was incoherent, "Just let me die! Please! Let me die!" Wasting no time and within the flash of a Deku nut, they had found themselves at the nearest mental health center with a very disturbed lavender haired boy.

Now, as they sat alone in their house after Vaati had been bacheracted, Agitha could only wonder if leaving him in that facility was the proper thing to do.

Colin stared out the window at the soggy earth beyond; he was searching for a response to his wife's question, but he could only correlate how the solemn gray sky was the same color as both his and Agitha's hair.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to both himself and Agitha, he replied, "We saved his life, dearest. No matter what may have gotten in the way, that is always the right choice."

He crossed the room to drape his arm across her shoulders, and the two resumed their silence, the only difference being that now they felt they could forgive themselves more.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yes, I did use an older version of Colin and Agitha from Twilight Princess - imagine Agitha without her "castle" but retaining her love for bugs, and it seems likely that if she and Colin (if in canon they had ever met) went out looking for bugs, that they might find a Picori - Ezlo!**

**So, this chapter was originally going to be the start of Link's sleepover at Ghirahim's, but I had a different idea in regards to the Vaati/Zant problem - _next_ chapter should feature the sleepover :3**


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